the Baker
I met a man while living here in Portland, and for the first time in over a year and a half, I felt like I had found someone that I actually wanted to have a relationship with. I saw it, I felt it, I knew it could be good if we tried it.
The first time we met, we sat on a bench outside. He curled his legs up like a kindergardener and turned his whole body towards me. I knew I liked him right away. His hands were always rough and dry but he would always reach across the table to hold mine. He smelled like sugar and sometimes you could find flakes of flour on his clothes leftover from work.
He told me that I made it hard for him to be cynical.
His ex-girlfriend came back to town and he realized that he was not over her. I respect his decision, but I cannot seem to shake it. I should be mad at him, but I’m not. I shouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me, but I do.
I wonder how much of this is just wanting something that I can’t have. The nostalgia I feel right now is so piercing that that can’t be it.
I had prided myself on being alone for almost two years and the false ideal that “I don’t need anybody”. You never realize that you need someone until you need them. I’m cautious when I meet new people now and instantaneously try to divine what it'll be that makes us stop talking. Calculating the hours of nights like this to wonder if investment in them will be worth it.
It could have been good if we had tried it.
The first time we met, we sat on a bench outside. He curled his legs up like a kindergardener and turned his whole body towards me. I knew I liked him right away. His hands were always rough and dry but he would always reach across the table to hold mine. He smelled like sugar and sometimes you could find flakes of flour on his clothes leftover from work.
He told me that I made it hard for him to be cynical.
His ex-girlfriend came back to town and he realized that he was not over her. I respect his decision, but I cannot seem to shake it. I should be mad at him, but I’m not. I shouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me, but I do.
I wonder how much of this is just wanting something that I can’t have. The nostalgia I feel right now is so piercing that that can’t be it.
I had prided myself on being alone for almost two years and the false ideal that “I don’t need anybody”. You never realize that you need someone until you need them. I’m cautious when I meet new people now and instantaneously try to divine what it'll be that makes us stop talking. Calculating the hours of nights like this to wonder if investment in them will be worth it.
It could have been good if we had tried it.