Walking Away

It's actually a few days after the night that I'm writing about, but those days were unpleasant so this is the first time I've really been able to sit down and write something without it being heavily influenced by emotion.

Last Friday was exactly like my Fridays have been for the last month. Plans with you that I looked very forward to. I smiled the entire day because I knew, no matter what, at the end of the day I would get to see your face, watch you smile, hear your laugh, listen to your beautifully-accented words and feel what you make me feel... this total, warm happiness.

Dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. I felt incredibly good, loved how I was dressed and was excited about looking good for you. I waited anxiously at the bar to see what you would be wearing and how beautiful you would look, just like you always do.

The conversation was exactly the way it has been with us from the start. Playful, witty, sometimes serious, intimate and always interesting to me.

Unfortunately at some point we came back around to the conversation which seems somewhat pervasive in our time together... what exactly it is that we're doing. (dating... non-dating?). I admit that I'm always the one to broach this subject since I'm the one concerned about it, and I apologize for that.

The difference this time is that we've now been seeing each other for almost a month and that is enough time for me to know that I'm very interested in spending a significant amount more time with you... and that I also want the relationship to progress to something more serious and intimate. And there's the rub. You're not in a place where that's what you want... and you don't know when or if you will be.

We went back and forth on it as we have a few other times during the short duration of this "romance" or whatever we choose to label it. I chose to make it clear on this occasion that I wouldn't be able to spend time with you like this for much longer without having some sort of clear indication of what we were involved in. I can feel myself becoming attached to you and I know that once that starts, it's only going to progress. I'm falling for you and I don't want to stop. I won't stop. But if letting myself fall is not a good idea, not something healthy for me, then I need to know now. I need to take a step back before it's too late. If you aren't starting to feel some of the same interest, not even a hint of it, then I need to know that. It only seems fair.

So we tussled with the idea, the options and the meaning of it all. During the conversation I would stop and look into your gorgeous dark eyes, thinking to myself "This might be the last time I'm going to get to be with her like this, the last time I'll be able to drift off into her eyes, the last time I'll get to trace the curve of her wonderful lips with my eyes." Not a happy thought.

I explained to you that the situation was very similar to one I faced a few years ago. I knew that I was starting to become attached to someone who announced that she was planning to move half-way across the country. Rather than step back from her, I chose to intensify the relationship to the point that I was extremely attached once her time to leave came. I knew what I should have done but I made a conscious decision to ignore that knowledge and proceed with what would bring me short term pleasure rather than long term happiness. It took a very long time to get over that and I wanted to learn from the mistakes of the past rather than repeat them.

Your solution was to just spend time with you as we had been, as friends. Only I don't think I can do that. I can feel this affection for you starting to grow within me. This need to touch you. This desire to feel your lovely, full lips pressed against mine. This instinct to run my fingers through your hair.
I'm enticed and intrigued by who you are, what you think, the words you speak and the thoughts you share. But I'm also physically attracted to you on a level that is very uncommon. Every curve of you pulls me like gravity. I don't think I can be near you for additional weeks or months and not sate that at some point. Eventually I'll fail in the battle to restrain myself. I'll give in to the overpowering urge to feel your skin... and then what will that do to us?

In the end it was settled. If it was becoming an issue for me then I needed to gain some space, disengage and start letting my hopes and desires go before I became any more attached to you.

That decision was one of the hardest I've ever made. I've been faced with tougher decisions in my life, but I've never chosen to do the "right" thing and doing the "right" thing is much harder than just doing what you want. If I enjoy something then I will continue to do it, even if it is clearly bad for me. I've never been good at telling myself no. Typical spoiled only child, I guess.

As we walked to our cars I felt this huge sadness beginning to bear down on me. I hated that every step I took was one step closer to the last intimate moments I would share with you. I hastily broke from you and went to my car, ending the night in a very unceremonious way, and I apologize for that. It suddenly felt very uncomfortable and I didn't know how to be. I've never thought of you as just a friend and I feel I had made my intentions clear from the very beginning. I could navigate getting closer to you, bit by bit... but I was completely lost in how to suddenly turn that off... so I simply walked away. Again, I apologize.

The next two days were quite unpleasant. Disappointment over finding someone so special, so exquisite, so desirable and interesting, then having to force myself to let her go. Knowing that there was someone out there, so close, that I had actually stumbled across in this big world, and that I wanted to spend more time with, get to know better but would be unable to do so, was very frustrating.
I slept most of the weekend away, but it was very fitful, filled with dreams that felt like negotiations, trying to find some solution to the situation that worked for everyone. I would wake and be reminded of the reality of the situation.

But as much as it had bruised my heart, I knew that it was nothing as painful as if I had let it go on for another month or two and then was forced to make the same decision.

That was still of little comfort.