Echo

He’s smart not to contact me now. I have to build up an immunity to the fever. I have to write a story.

Oh, the temptation. Or more so, the tease. I know we’re intimately compatible. I always had a good sense for it. If we could agree in honest terms we could have it. But we have yet to be alone and talk. Except for him telling his childhood ghost stories. And me telling him about infinity.

Lord, save me from these unavailable men. I so desperately want to know how their lips taste.

You give me fever.

Got hit in the mouth today. At emergency room waiting for stitches. Been frustrated with life lately.

Catch, he says. And I look up just as he throws me a peanut butter cup.

We’d once agreed that the problem with peanut butter cups was that once you got a taste, it’s hard to stop.

I asked him if he we was eating one.

Nope, he said.

Of course not.

What if he gives it back? Well, I guess I have to respect that. There is nowhere to go but forward. Truth is truth, matter who knows it.

Where did I write that?

When the truth can no longer hurt us, all will be revealed.

Gay guys go up to 9 and 10. I get my swagger because I can get guys who are 9’s and 10’s. But then again, if straight guys had paid any attention to me in high school, I wouldn’t have been so motivated to take an evolutionary leap past them.

I guess it just takes him really long to make his moves. But he did tell me exactly in that dream.

I told you this was tragic. You just have to keep these things separate.

There’s been a lot of sparks around me. Could I be close to finding truth? My issue was never finding truth. It was my reactions to it.

Brian has revised my sexual spectrum.

Gay man/Straight girl/Into Athletic Girls

80/20/*

*”Not that spiritual shit again.”

Dear future partner. My goal is by October 20th, 2012, I will have abs you’re gonna want to eat off of.

That may be the most forward thing I’ve ever written.

Sun conjunct Mercury
Sun conjunct Venus
Mercury conjunct Venus

Months ago, my coworker told me she really needed to talk to me. She told me she had mentioned to my newly married coworker if he ever thought about things with me and he said he did, but he felt the friendship was more important. But to her surprise, he told her to tell me he’d said that and to find out what I said.

She knew how I felt about him, how I’d waited, how the day in 2010 I found out he bought the ring was the most devastating day of the year for me. The dreams. How I forced myself to move on. It was about doing the right thing.

At the time, I was dealing with the wedding, moving on, and my feelings about his sudden closeness with other girls in the office that I was angry with him toying with me so I told her do NOT tell him anything. He was married now. He’d made his choice. What does it matter anymore?

Today I asked him, if I gave you a sealed envelope, so that when I die, you can know exactly what I thought of you, would you want it? To my surprise , he said, yes.

I gave him a sealed envelope marked “Pandora.”

Inside, it was this site’s address and the words “search: jerry.”

He now held in his hand the conundrum I lived for two years.

It’s amazing the depths of the secret lives we carry. For 2 years now, he had no idea I watched and waited. The number of times we’ve met in dreams. The time in a dream I messed up my clothes so he helped me get changed and when I thanked him he said, of course…I know how much you care about me. The tenderness of that moment, I’ve never forgotten. Our first and only kiss. We have a parallel life together in dreams and he has no idea. Is it any less truthful?

I gave him the envelope marked “Pandora.” Maybe some secrets are better left sealed.

I am devastating in writing.

I had some kind of mental break at work today. Wtf, Julia. Major fail.

I was training some new guys from at the cowboy bar last night. About game. Being a man. If I’m a better man than you, then you better take some notes. I’d played basketball that morning and Dojo always makes me feel at my most panther. Strong. This energy bunny guy, all packed with muscles, total molester came out of nowhere and starts bopping his ass against me, like he was backing me down on the dance floor. But I train for shit like this. Without missing a beat, I push back for the spring then pull the chair and as he stumbles I turn around and shove him across the dance floor. He looked back at me like he couldn’t understand how one second he was sexually harassing me and the next he was 8 ft away. Dumbass. I’m a fucking ninja.

I am only deeply romantic in my words. I can not yet show.

We’ve been alone more times in my dreams than in real life.

Being comfortable alone in a crowd helps you comfortably be yourself when you’re alone with other people.

The writer’s life is not a choice. I write because I feel. I feel because I live. I live because I write. I am always chasing, seeking, witnessing, processing.

To the guy who asked if I was some kind of player today…don’t hate on a girl who knows what she wants and knows it ain’t you.

Dumb guys. But you have to say no if it’s not a stage but just his state of being.