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8:45 p.m. - December 12, 2001 No, there's no doubt. I should definitely go for him. Logically. However. I can't even think about touching him, or him touching me. So that's that; so it's out. Fucking psyche. There's never anything perfect, is there? So he says he likes my music. Went nuts on me about it, actually. Said it was amazing, and that if he were on the decision board, he'd let me in, and pay my tuiton, too. I wish the decision board had a job for him. I don't know what to think. He is musical; more musical, technically, than me, I think; what with all his courses in theory and jazz-studies... I should put some faith in his opinion. Then again, some of my friends without the training, with their simple listening, have given me some suggestions. Never the same suggestion, of course. But they're who I'm catering to; the average listener. I don't exactly know what to do. On a totally different subject, also a different 'him', I wish he would come back. I wouldn't know how to put it in words to him, even if I had the opportunity, which I don't, but having him coming and going like that is even almost harder than having him go away and stay away. For that one period of time, the longest, by the time he'd come back I'd almost forgotten him. Not quite. Almost. It had gotten to the point where I didn't think about him when listing my friends in my head; or if I did, it was an afterthought. I didn't even wonder if he would be there when I signed online. I knew he wouldn't be. I didn't open my inbox in anticipation; I knew there would be nothing inside. But now? I've been thrown completely off. When did I last talk to him? Two weeks ago, maybe. Before that, four weeks. And before that... probably four months. You just never know when he's going to turn up and start talking like no time has passed, and really it feels like it hasn't; comfortable flowing words and stumbling to share stories.. 'just wanted to take five and say hello..' he'll say.. five minutes turns into an hour turns into three hours and the words are still shooting out a mile a minute and I'm cold, freezing, I always get cold when I talk to him - strange physiological response - he talks more than me, generally, unusual for me... usually I'm the yammerer... and it's late and my fingers are numb and he is falling asleep and I am shaking and we take forever to do it, but we eventually say goodbye. He always leaves first. I never can. And for days, weeks, after, I always feel like he's lingering over my shoulder, in my head, knows what's going on, knows exactly what I'm doing and I will feel these proud or disapproving looks right in the side of my brain. I wish I didn't believe in that. But I do; I never did before and now I do; he's proved it enough times for my grudging mind to take it in. So really, it's easier when he just stays away. When he leaves no forwarding anything and just disappears without a trace of anything, anywhere. I'll worry my ass off for awhile, I'll wonder where he's off to and if he's all right. For a limited amount of time. Then I'll gradually stop caring so much and just ride. I know he'll never be a predictable person, never. It took me forever to accept that. Frantic e-mails and the like. Now it's just one or two and I know that's enough. Excessive calling never brought him back. After awhile I've learned to take him with a grain of salt, and when he stays away, just don't worry. Forget about him. He'll be back... he always has been before. And if he's not? I can't think about that yet. I can't. Despite the fact that it's easier when he stays away, I'd actually prefer this sporadic visits. It's harder on me. But I drink his words like syrup. He makes me happy, when he's here. I'd take that anytime over the blank void when he's not. (Do you hear that, you fucking asshole?)
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