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I love you.

December 11, 2013

MTIA: Are you still coming down to the bar tonight?
Twig: Yeah, what’s up?
MTIA: Nothing. Just… if you cancelled, I’d understand. Disappointment is a part of life. In fact, every  joy we experience is just delayed disappointment.
Twig: Woah. No disappointment will be coming from me, at least not as long as I can help it.

This is how the evening started.

By 6:45pm, I was driving through the city in the midst of a panic attack. Eventually, the attack turned into good old self-loathing again, but not before I got to the bar and MTIA saw the terrified look in my eyes. An hour later, I was staring at the wall, or drawing on a scrap of paper, not focused on anything but sadness. That was the only thing I could feel. I thought about just leaving, but I wouldn’t do that to MTIA – he would have been worried and unable to do anything until he was done with work. He’d be miserable. I don’t ever want to cause him distress, and he’d have been out of his mind with anxiety if I just said, “I have to go. Bye,” and walked out. I know how it goes… it’s the very same reaction I’d have if he did it to me. And in looking back at moments like those, I realize – only in hindsight of course – I realize that he really does care about me.

At the end of his shift, he met me outside, immediately opening his arms wide and wrapping me in a tight embrace. I drove MTIA home. I was still in a self-destructive mood. He was in a bad mood, too, because of people bitching at him at work. My head was in a horrible place. I couldn’t (and still can’t) explain it to him. But for an instant, he took all the pain, anger, fear, and confusion away from me as he nudged my shoulder like cats so often do. He suggested that I come hang out at the bar while he’s working tomorrow night, that we can hang out after, which very likely means his crashing at my place. When I drop him off, we chat for a few more minutes, exchange a few kisses. I told him that I don’t have a jersey to wear to the game on Friday. I have a very ridiculous winter hat, but it’s too hot to wear inside. His face lit up suddenly. “Oh my God!” he grinned at me. Since CAB is leaving Thursday, you can wear one of her really old and awesome jerseys! They will totally fit you!” Of course when he said it, he didn’t call her CAB.

I immediately warmed to his idea, and this should tell you what kind of asshole I really am sometimes: I am in love with knowing I’ll have worn something of the CAB without her knowledge and that she would be SO effing pissed off if she knew. Since she thrives on anger and negativity, denying her the opportunity to be ridiculous pissed off is a true delight. Every time I see her or have to acknowledge that she exists, I will remember that and smile. I’m that petty. I’m not proud, but I’m not going to change, either.

When MTIA finally said goodbye a final time, I left with a smile locked in place. Despite all this, I haven’t told him how frustrated I am. As much as he gets me, I can’t allow myself to believe or indulge the possible hope that he sees me exactly as I see me:

No one could possibly understand me that well. Surely not. I refuse to let him be that perfect.
But maybe
I shut down the hopeful thinking post-haste and slipped back into silent sadness.
He will leave you. He will leave you. He will leave you.
Why can’t I just enjoy the moment if I’m going to end up alone again anyway? Either it will work out and MTIA will finally trust me, or I’ll be alone again.
You will love him too much. It will break you completely when he leaves if you let yourself enjoy everything that you have.

Now here’s the real bitch: I’m pretty sure (pretty sure) MTIA feels the same way.

I’ve got myself in a bit of a situation…

You know, when I decided to keep my gender identity my own business, I thought that staying mum about it wouldn’t bother me because that’s the way it’s always been; people can view me however they want. My gender identity and/or sexual orientation are irrelevant. Or they ought to be. But “ought” isn’t “is.” Because now I’m starting to change my mind with MTIA and TLTL in the picture – well, MTIA, really. I don’t like keeping things from him, even if I think he already understands.

I will never break your heart, MTIA.


From → fiction, rants

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