So. I invited her to dinner, sent an invitation even. And never heard back from her. Somehow, I knew I wouldn't. But I got myself all nicely dressed and ready anyways, just in case she should show at my doorstep, apologetic smile ready to pacify me. By 8:15, I knew that I could forget any plans I'd made, that a nice dinner at a nice restaurant was something for another time, another place. A different girl. Someone who would actually call me back, and graciously decline an invitation, even if it meant making up some random excuse that was as easily seen through as a Japanese rice paper screen. I'd found Spiderman 2 on HBO by that point, and managed to lose myself in the movie even as the back of my mind kept listening for some knock at the door. Afterwards I saw her online. Let her contact me; I'm done with invitations and niceness. I've done my part, and she knows how to reach me. If she so chooses, I'll accept any apology she might make. I think, now, that telling her she was my first kiss was my first mistake. Possibly my first and only mistake. And even as I said it that night my mind gave this little mental scream of "noooooo!! idiot!" and I instantly wished I could take back the words that had just come out of my mouth. It makes me sad that out of everything I could have learned from her, the one lesson I really got was not to share revelations such as the one I did. Growing more guarded in what I tell people, rather than less, is not something I like the idea of... the thought's a weird, strange little one - that each relationship or kernel of a relationship that I go through will teach me to share less and less. Such a sad world, when it comes to that. Our lessons should be good ones, not harsh ones that make us regret decisions in the first place. So... now the waiting begins, and I'm back to the lesson I was trying to learn before she kissed me and made me smile and way to happy for nearly a week - that caring too much from the very start just hurts too much in the end. It's better to force yourself not to care, and then be pleasantly surprised when life does go your way. What a fucking pessimist I have to be. Break my halo and blacken my wings, I can't stay this good forever. "Someday, love will find me... in the rough."
Revisiting the Red Howlers
9 months ago