So You Don't Know Where You're Going But You Want To Talk

 I am stuck in laundry purgatory, listening to Coldplay's X&Y album, snuggled down on the couch, and thinking that I might be willing to give this post a go. As referenced in the last post, I've been playing around with this for a while now. I figure it's time I commit it to paper... or whatever the blogger equivalent is.

The truth of the matter is that a couple of weeks I emotionally slept with hoodie!boy. I poured out my heart to about something that was weighing on me. I knew that he would have some words of wisdom for me, or at least strongly figured he would. So, I decided that I was going to do it. I sent off a text, and that was that.

And so he came to me when I asked, away from the rest of our chaotic little world, sat with me, listened to it all, and gave me some really good advice. He asked some thought provoking questions. He opened up about his past, and how he could get behind what I was saying. He wasn't in the same situation, but close enough that he could speak from his own experience.  I was amazed at how much our experiences in the past line up. Both the big stuff and the stupid little stuff that came out of that conversation.


For those twenty minutes, my world shrank down to the two of us. I didn't give a damn that I had a list a mile of of things I needed to do, or that someone might see us walking by, or the pile of dishes in the sink or how I didn't defrost anything for dinner. It was just us, and that brutal honesty I've been wanting for so long. Trust me, it doesn't get that much more brutally honest with me. He took just about the worst of it, and was fine. More than fine. He rolled with it.

Since then, we've had some really good conversations. He's offered his help on a project that I said I was considering taking on. He's been joking and friendly. He's been telling stories. He's answered questions I've asked straight up. He's compared me on multiple occasions to someone who was always kind and patient with him, even when he didn't necessarily deserve it. I always thought it was silly, considering how he'd always say I was crazy in that comparison, but then he shared the rest of the story, and I can't help but wonder if he thinks of me as having those same traits that he admired.

After this, I felt closer to him... feel closer to him. The past isn't forgotten, not the tears nor the hours eating cookie dough in bed watching Dexter nor anything else. Maybe it is getting a little closer to being the past though. I'm willing to see more of the good in him. I'm willing to step out of my all too comfy self-righteous anger.


Don't be mistaken: I won't let this become last fall.

Which I suppose makes this whole thing complicated. I am looking for someone to date, at least to go out and try it, you know? I'm not saying that I am expecting to meet my soulmate tomorrow, but I'm open to the possibility of coffee or dinner or something. But I can't deny that I don't feel anything for hoodie!boy.

The question then becomes what to do about this. I refuse to languish here longing after someone who doesn't want me. Yet, I can't think that it is fair to whoever I meet, if I meet someone now, if I have feelings for someone else. Not full on feelings, but enough to make me say that my heart is not a completely free agent. On the other hand, it would be nice to meet someone who isn't him, to show me that there are other men out there. 

I'm usually not a fan of black and white thinking, but I feel like in this case, it might be nice. Nothing with the heart is black and white, and I know I don't want it to be that way. A little clarity would be much appreciated.