� The box � 2004-02-01 � 10:19 p.m. �
I am hugely misinterpreted here... and the wonder is how can I seem so completely different in type than I am in person...
Of course I have my exceptions... Davy, Sean, Dave, Trevor and Andy...
The likes of one however... I can sense his shortcoming... sense his annoyance... and I don't know if that's his usual self showing face... if it's a moment I catch him at... I shouldn't be surprised by my time passing anyway... I sense the complete lack of time he has for a friend... to whom he owes nothing but a little courtesy....
He's a rationalist... he always has to make sense of the world around him... even when it doesn't - simply. He has these big words for small problems and he has a solution for everything... I swear to God to he's part shape-shifter.
I am a different breed... I don't let go easily... not of life, nor love, nor the ties I have or had... I will never deny one to love another, nor love one less in devotion to the next. I love a million people, each in a different way... I have no shame in admitting it... nor saying it.
Apparently that bothers some... I think it does him.
We thought we'd never be a constant in eachothers lives. We thought goodbye was for good and we'd move one. I with what was left of my life... and he with his own, graciously. We were wrong... we now live close... and have plently of opportunity to catch up.
Is it wrong for me to want that? To want him to be there if I need him to be? It must be.
I don't know if forcing distance is his way of making right what never will be... his way of rationalizing this.... but i do know when it's convenient for him, he'll come around... he always does....
For a man whose heart I held in my hands... for a man whose heart he swears I stole a piece of... I don't think he knows me well - anymore....
And I am sorry to disappoint him.
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