After all the testing Billy took us back to Jeremy's house. By that point I had a headache and the feeling that I would throw up very, very soon. I discovered that it stopped hurting if I stopped moving so Jeremy watched a couple movies while I sat next to him on the couch hiding my face in his shoulder and clinging to his arm. I kept having the impulse to say things I knew I shouldn't so I focused on breathing and twitching my fingers instead. I was so cold. I felt like if I could just sit close enough, Jeremy's body heat would chase away the cold. I felt terrible every time I moved even the slightest bit, but I was perfectly content where I was anyway.
At some point the nausea subsided enough for us to eat dinner. While the stew warmed up in the microwave, Jeremy grabbed me and started dancing with me there in the middle of the kitchen. I've never danced like that before and I'm sure I was still at least mildly intoxicated as I nearly fell over a few times, but it was nice. He spun me and dipped me and I can't believe he didn't let me fall over. He picked me up when he hugged me but I think that was earlier and at some point we fake-fought very briefly before he had me in a position I had no hope of escaping.
So by the time we finished eating our stew later, I thought I had reached a new level of comfortable with touching. It took a lot for me to lean over and lay my head on his shoulder. It took even more courage to claim his arm. But I did that. I was happy with myself for not getting all weird about touching my friend. Progress. But then he touched my face.
I don't remember the words that came out of my mouth or exactly what I did with my hands but I think the general message was that he should stop. Right now.
What I do remember is that it felt very much like a moment from a dream I had and I didn't like the similarity at all because I was afraid somehow the hands on my face would absorb the memory of the dream and he would know. My heart started racing immediately because those hands were warmer and closer and more real than the dream hands and I liked that too much. So I wanted it to stop. Because it hurts too much to want something I can't have. I mean, it sucks.
I can feel friend feelings when I lean on his shoulder. I can feel friend feelings when we dance in the kitchen and when we hug and when he knocks me to the ground. But I lose the battle when he puts it hands on my face. When he is so close I can feel the warmth from his breath. When his hand is suddenly on my knee. Maybe he likes giving me palpitations. Maybe he can feel my heart racing through his fingertips.
But this is harder than I thought it would be. And who do I talk to about it? He is the one I tell things to when I have things to tell. The one that makes it better when I'm upset and the one that offers a new perspective when I can't see it right. But I stutter and get inarticulate and unclear when I try to talk about how I feel about him with him.
And I feel like so many other relationships are going wrong right now. And I'm horrible at dealing with disharmony. It makes me want to withdraw instead of fix it.
So I'll tell you all the things I didn't tell anyone else today:
I got the second job I was trying to get. Now I'll have two of them. Every day of the week. And my biggest worry is that I won't see Jeremy enough.
I don't really feel like a supervisor very much at work. Its like I'm only a supervisor when everyone else is busy or unavailable. I'm sure it will just take time for people to start thinking of me that way.
Jeremy and Johnna shared heartbreak stories last night. They talked about how much it hurts. I didn't have a story to tell and I wanted so much to tell them how awful it is knowing that no one ever wanted me, not even long enough to break my heart. How awful it is to wonder if I'll ever get to experience what it is to date. I wanted to tell them how willing I was to experience the tears if only I could feel the high that comes first. I would have cried too.
They think they can tell me which is better: being alone or risking heartbreak. They think they know both feelings. But how can they know the deep, deep assurance that after 23 years no one has ever loved me like that. They know what it is to be loved and dismissed, but no one ever gave me the opportunity in the first place. No one ever gave me the time and attention.
But I didn't tell them. I didn't cry. I didn't let them see what it's doing to me. And they told me I didn't want it. Told me not to fall in love.
I honestly, honestly am running out of patience. I wasn't made to be alone.
And sometimes, for brief moments of time, I can step outside of myself and see a person worth loving. Why hasn't anyone else seen this girl yet?
I'm getting sleepy and leaving out words. I think I'm grumpy because I slept terribly and woke up with a headache from the drinking and haven't had enough social interaction today. Maybe I'll write something happy tomorrow.
I hope I don't dream about touching anymore.