Tonight was “the talk”. Yes, we are friends. It is not the answer I had hoped for in my heart, of course, being the hopeless romantic. But there are some things about it that are out of the ordinary, at least in my experience. I find myself terribly bummed and terribly happy at the same time. There is sadness, certainly, and over time I am sure I will foist some schlocky verse upon the world or express some silly negativity for you to peruse. But there is a joy underneath it. And the fact is, I am exceedingly happy to be her friend. This is odd for me. In the past, this would have been a mortal blow, resulting in excessive awkwardness and extended listenings of The Smiths ouvre.
I have never been let down with more grace or kindness. It was straightforward and honest. And what’s more, it was nothing I did. She just happens to be in a place where she is enjoying being “free”, for lack of a better term, and just does not want to deal with any of the whole “dating” thing. She really likes spending time with me and talking with me. Plus, there is the fact that she is seriously the busiest person on the universe. She mentioned that she should feel something more for me, because she really thinks I am great. Now, I know that sounds cliche’, but there was an honesty in it that was not just kind words. She never once made me feel awkward or embarrassed for anything I did. In fact, aside from the fact she knew she needed to talk to me and make sure I knew where things stood, she liked what I did… the flowers, the notes. As a friend.
The truth from my end is that I really like being around her, regardless. She isn’t cosmopolitan or plugged in to current events and I don’t even know if we hold any of the same political opinions. But she’s real. Real in a way I have never experienced before. And she truly is the kindest person I have met, because anyone dealing with what she does and going through what she is would be excused for being prickly. But she is formidably kind and giving.
A part of me, a very small part, holds out an irrational hope that things might develop between us over time. But I cannot be a friend to her and allow that to color how I approach our friendship. That would be disingenuous at the least, if not dishonest. There may be times I step over that friend line again, because I am both impulsive and an idiot. But I believe this a friendship that can weather those kind of missteps and stay close.
So yes… I am sad. Truly. When something misses so closely, it’s hard not to be a little morose. But to finally meet someone who endures my idiocy and still desires a real friendship? It’s hard to be melancholy for too long. Right now, my emotions are fluxing by the second. They will settle.