HIM

 UnRequited Not Returned

                   I invited him to come over last night, I wanted him to meet my brother and sister-in-law. I wanted to watch him play with my niece and my nephew. I wanted to see him smile over ice cream cones and guitars.

He didn’t even answer. I keep putting myself out there, I keep asking him to see me. I keep trying to get him to talk to me one on one. The only way I can speak it seems, I am unsure if it is because I am so shy now or if I get to overwhelmed by distractions to form sentences. He did not answer. So I went to sleep hoping to feel better this morning, I did not. I woke up and checked my phone, just to twist the knife.

“Did he text me back?”

“No.”

Plunge the knife into my heart and twist, “AHHHH!!!”.  Still nothing? Twist the knife, look again! Still nothing. This is our… I will use the word “relationship” for lack of a better term, but a traditional relationship is not even close to what is between us. I have completely fallen for him, and he barely tolerates me. I still try though.

Because he is worth it.

Most of it is my fault. I have not thoroughly explained (and I am still not ready to) about when I disappeared. “I” being my memories, my sense of self, my identity. I had no idea who I was beyond my birthday, and memories of being less than twenty. I had hazy memories of the decade that was missing, but for the most part I was gone. My memory had taken a hiatus from life, and left my body to figure out life without any experiences to alter my perception. I don’t mention it much because I still have not had a medical explanation ( Although the evidence points pretty strongly to hearing loss). I am seeing a psychologist, and that is helping but there is still the question of WHY?  All the sudden I “woke up” ( again, for lack of a better term) and I was ten years older than my memories. Why were the people who said they knew me strangers with faces I had never seen? Even my mother seemed someone else I couldn’t recognize at times, why? My life was nothing but terror for months. I had no clue who I was, how to figure it out, why people hated me or what had happened. In that period of time I met HIM.

HE was calm, like the eye at the center of a hurricane. I know now it is because his eyes are the same color as mine, so I could look at him and he would seem familiar. He played guitar for me, and for the first time in my memory, I heard all the notes. I didn’t know I was hard of hearing, I didn’t know I hadn’t been hearing all of music. He played for me and gave me the bottom register back. That night I wept as he played a simple scale. I had never heard all of it like that before.  I fell a little in love with him that night. I fall more every time I see him, hear his voice. Watch him play. Listen to him speak about astronomy and philosophy.

I want to spend most of my time listening to him with my head in his lap.

He would prefer if I was never around.

This is making it quite difficult for our “relationship” to progress.

Of course, when we met I still had not figured out things other adults know.  Table manners for one. Hygiene and how to appropriately dress. I got hot so I would take off my clothes. This is evidently not appropriate. Who knew? Everyone but me I guess. My mind was still that of a child only I was in the body of an adult. I had no idea how to wash myself or take care of my teeth. And because I didn’t have very many words and no idea how to communicate, I had no Idea how to tell people something was wrong. They just assumed I was a drugged out mess (And I was on drugs, but the entirety of my mental issues were not because of them. The Drug Use was a symptom not the disease). So from his point of view, I was a poorly groomed addict. A childish woman acting like a spoiled child who wouldn’t work even though I was quite obviously capable.

From My point of view, he gave me music, and he taught me how to communicate better, even though it was not purposeful. There is something about the sound of his voice that makes things click in my mind.

“Hobbies” “Tone-Deaf”

He said these words and I understood them for the first time. I knew I could have hobbies and not have to make them my career.

I heard tone-deaf and knew that’s what I was and I could practice finding the right note.

Just listening to him speak gives me chills.

When he looks into my eyes I almost cannot bear the way his eyes scream at me.

I watch his hands play guitar and my heart beats so fast I need to run or jump to calm it. I hear his name or say it in my mind and my heart loses rhythm and races. Being near him robs me of my speech, and keeps me from falling asleep.

I awake in the middle of the night and begin to weep because I know he doesn’t want to be near me. He answers when I text now. Before he would never respond. But he did not answer when I invited him over. So this morning I have done nothing. I have wept. I have sat. I have sat and wept.  I’m weeping as I write this and I am going to go weep as I make tea.

P.S. The guy in the pic isn’t him. That is just a friend. I didn’t want to put HIS picture up without approval, and that would be hard to get considering he barely speaks to me.

 

 

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