Decisions

I made a couple decisions last night.

First: Two weeks is too long now. It truly does not matter that we used to go that long on a regular basis. I can't do it anymore. I just can't. And, yes… doing our thing, or getting to exchange pleasantries during a chance encounter… those are nice. I will never complain about those things. They make my heart swell every single time.

But they aren't enough, not anymore.

And, sure… that text last night was minimal. Not really much more than those things named above. But that doesn't mean it wasn't important. Hopefully, it was important to you in that I let you know that you're on my mind. It was definitely important to me because it was a step towards regaining my footing after too long… and, in this case, a bit of a disappointment (it helps that we were both disappointed, probably equally so… but that doesn't mean I didn't trip).

So, decision one: I don't know if I'll be able to manage it, but I'm going to try… If we start approaching two weeks with nothing more than a couple waves and maybe a hello… I'm going to find something to let you know I'm still thinking of you. I feel like it shouldn't be that hard. I'm always thinking of you. The hard part will be making myself hit that “send” button.

But I know you welcome me in your life, because you told me so. Explicitly. I just have to remind myself of that whenever I doubt it.

And, yeah, sometimes it'll just be something like last night. I do hope I manage to figure out better things to share with you. But, sometimes…

A gentle nudge is better than nothing at all.

And… going into the cold months… I know from experience that it's going to just get harder and harder to see each other over the next half a year. So I need to make myself do this.

Second: Weird blips and random coincidences aside, I know that you aren't here reading me.

But, from here on out, I'm just going to pretend that you are. I'm going to pretend you've found me and have been reading along all this time. While also not passing up any real-world opportunities to interact with you. Not that I have been… not recently. And no, writing a letter on here does not count for my “no more than two weeks” rule. I need to actually engage with you. More than you could possibly know.

But I also need to get these things out of me. And I just don't think it's been helpful wrestling with the idea of you being here or not. And possibly the sensible thing would be to decide that you aren't (because you aren't). But I've tried that, and it didn't work for me. This might not, either, but I figure I might as well give it a try.

So. The plan, for now: Pretend you've found me. Pretend that the handful of times you've said things that are hard to explain otherwise were you telling me that you're here. And all those countless times you've said things which, at a stretch, could be, like a specific choice of words in the pleasantries we exchanged last week… Well. Those aren't anywhere near as convincing, but they happen so frequently. So. I'm going to pretend that you want me to know, but can't tell me openly for one reason or another. Lord knows in our situation there are plenty of potential reasons.

I'm going to pretend that, and try not to be too self-conscious about it, though I do know myself. But if it somehow magically turns out to be true, then you've already read all the things I've already written… and have kept coming back for more.

And I guess that means, after this post, I'm going to stop with the “I know you aren't here…” stuff. I do know it. But that doesn't mean I have to say it every five sentences.

And I'll probably also drop the “if you're into it” business in the more… feverish letters. If you were reading these things, then you'd get it by now. Sorry, my love, but you've accidentally fallen in love with an old pervert. But I'm a gentleman pervert, lol. And I expect that's got to be clear by now. Maybe. Well. Maybe I'll still mention it from time to time, lol.

Of course, speaking of the various sorts of things I write you… I guess the biggest problem is that I have no idea which you might even be interested in. I think you'd appreciate being told that you're loved, and that you're beautiful. I suspect you might enjoy at least a handful of the hot-under-the-collar ones. Maybe. And if you're even remotely like me, then the random thoughts journal posts would be good, too (I would be so happy to read anything at all that you wrote). Well, I guess until we can actually talk about these things, there's not really any way for me to know. So I guess I'll just carry on as I have been… writing whatever comes to mind. Seems to have been ok so far.

And I'll continue to not use this as a substitute for interacting with you. Spending time with you is all I ever really want anymore. So I'm going to keep trying to do that. Two prongs: try to spend time with you as often as our situations allow in the real world, while pretending my words of love are filling your heart over here in my imaginary world. I can do both. I've been doing both. I guess I just needed to acknowledge it, to myself if not to you.

We'll see how it goes.

I love you, ⭐️. I love you.

And I am yours.