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The pathetic aria of a still-lonely man.

Friday, I wrote about how bad April is for me. The last couple of days have, in their moments, continued to remind me why.

Partly, it's a mean game I play with/on myself. Slight obsessiveness mixed with loneliness and indecisiveness. I've had an especially hard time shaking it this week.

Like, there's this one guy I've known for a long, long time. And really liked him pretty much all along, too. Not just because he's oh-so-fuckable but out of legit respect for his mind and personality and so on. I think he's just awesome, but I don't know if he even knows I'm "here". You know, like that.

I mean, I imagine he must know I like him. ...right? But it's like he looks right through me half the time--or is he just playing really really coy with me? Other times...he seems almost annoyed with me. But maybe he's busy. And what about those times he seems to set aside other goings on to talk to me?

Can you tell I think about this way too much? way too seriously? This is how it is in my head.

My wild imagination has concocted all sorts of half-storylines to torture itself. All the ways it could be so wonderful, if it were, if only it really were. (And how, no use denying, amazing the sex would be....) What maybe--just maybe--that extra smile at a joke or way he looked at me might mean.

Crueler still, though this all ebbs and flows, time and again when these feelings and mental movies resurge, scenarios of telling him how I'll feel seize my already overactive imagination. Hollywood-esque, at times, speechifying in my mind. The urge to tell him gets so strong that I just can't shake the debate. "What if, what if? But what if not?"

That situation has become the way it is, I think, partly because how long I've yearned over it.

The other part of this game, this mean joke, I put upon myself is a sort of "hedging my bets", as it could be cynically referred to.

That indecision gets fueled by interest and attraction but also uncertainty and worry. I can't leave well enough alone or just balls-up & do something.

The indecision is fueled by--and goes on as long & strong as it does because--interest & attraction but also uncertainty & worry. I can be, at times, so very lonely. And, let's not lie, horny. But I fear rejection so much, as well as failure, that I'll refrain from going too boldly about it.

Somewhere in there I create a lot of pain and trouble for myself. Somewhere in there I ward off potential boyfriends, or only find bad candidates who wouldn't work out any way things went. Somewhere in there I find myself with 2 or 3 strong possibilities, but can't bring myself to take action and decide for fear of being wrong, or ending up alone, or lord only knows what else.

I know I must sound like such a pathetic skank.  I've actually outgrown or learned to manage a lot of it. At the least, to not be as wholly destroyed by it anymore.

It still isn't easy. It isn't easy sometimes when the loneliness and, yes, horniness hits me hard enough, gets strong enough.

I am, afterall, human; I want to be loved. I also want to love. And for so many years, sick as it may sound, everything I've described above has given me quick, easy, glimpses of it--even if only purely imagined. It's ad hoc, at best, the little thrill or glimmer of hope, but it's enough, apparently, to egg it on a little longer, to encourage me against my better judgment.

And April never helps. It's like everyone's--including my own--urge to find companionship, sex, love, etc, peaks suddenly with the returned flowers and birdsong and warm weather & the less bulky, more revealing clothes it allows.

But the same old brain still has the same old pains & problems, frankly. It also has the same urges, same default habits, same automatics. And though I've grown up and changed so much, I may never completely rewrite them; I certainly can't erase the memories or the past.

Which reminds me of TS Eliot again...
"...mixing memory and desire"


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