(no subject)
I gave the wrong impression, or he thought of the impression that he wanted me to give and now it slumbers in his heart. I try really hard to stand off because of circumstances like this one. Don't be so hard on Erin just because she showed the type of love that God calls us to love. I am harsh, yes, and it is not a positive thing. Because of this you think that I am always so direct. You are naive to think that I always know what I feel, or think, or want to feel, force myself to feel. That is foolish. You act like a fool sometimes. I don't like you the way that you tell me I like you. In all fact that could ever sprout from my heart, I have no desire to drive the extra hour from san diego to see you. I would rather spend my quiet time without you, so I can be quiet.
"You know what would be happening right now if you were in LA? You would be starring at the wall and I would be starring at you." No. You couldn't be more wrong. None of that would be happening cos I wouldn't be over at your house. I would not be inside your room, behind that white, cheap door, in your bed. I would not be there with you. This is something I didn't want to say over the antenna lines, but you want to force something good out of me so bad that you are gonna get the truth, and it's bad for you. It is bad because I played on actions to feelings that weren't yet solid, or solid in the same way that you felt the solidity. I was there with you for comfort, for companionship, for the frustration that had been gutting me up every day that year. It was frustration because it was not a solid feeling. I wanted the actions to a novel romance written in the text of my mind. Your body was the tool I wrote with. I was with you like a friend is with a friend. You were with me like a man was with a woman. Our feelings obviously do not comply.
Confessions of your own theories stabbing you in the chest. I make you angry not because of my passions, or my struggles, or my harshness (which you are attracted to for a reason I do not know), but because of one night. One night when we were walking on the sidewalk and you asked me if I thought you were funny and sexy. I am honest. I said no, thinking it was only fair to be so brave to give an honest answer to an honest question. That is the only thing about me that makes you angry. Because I didn't say that you were funny and sexy. Checking your chest you watch the wound pull itself apart and see your theory born onto the sidewalk. You confess that you wanted to be funny and sexy. You think everyone does. I cannot apologize for not wanting to be desired by you. I can also not apologize for not desiring you the way you say that I do. It is your confidence that kills you, not my inability to reciprocate your feelings.
I underestimated the thick lining of your skull. Dim. Subtle hints and even the not so subtle ones, that I thought hard about before saying because I thought they were too rash, did not phase you. You continued to listen to your confidence. Has it told you that it is only getting you back to yourself? Haven't made it that far around the circle yet? I want to remain friends, remain meaning stay that way. Yes, stay. We were never anything more than friends no matter how you nor I felt about anything, or each other. We are friends. You will hopefully realize that is all we can be. Why force two different feelings to be felt the same way? It is not possible, practical, nor romantic. I would rather you be yourself and my friend, than you trying to be someone you think I want you to be romantically. I don't want you to be anyone but who you are because I think that is wonderful, and I want to feel like I can love how God has called us to love without your humanistic sexual feelings interrupting the growth.
How I am to address you with this, I am still unsure, but I do know where to send it.
"You know what would be happening right now if you were in LA? You would be starring at the wall and I would be starring at you." No. You couldn't be more wrong. None of that would be happening cos I wouldn't be over at your house. I would not be inside your room, behind that white, cheap door, in your bed. I would not be there with you. This is something I didn't want to say over the antenna lines, but you want to force something good out of me so bad that you are gonna get the truth, and it's bad for you. It is bad because I played on actions to feelings that weren't yet solid, or solid in the same way that you felt the solidity. I was there with you for comfort, for companionship, for the frustration that had been gutting me up every day that year. It was frustration because it was not a solid feeling. I wanted the actions to a novel romance written in the text of my mind. Your body was the tool I wrote with. I was with you like a friend is with a friend. You were with me like a man was with a woman. Our feelings obviously do not comply.
Confessions of your own theories stabbing you in the chest. I make you angry not because of my passions, or my struggles, or my harshness (which you are attracted to for a reason I do not know), but because of one night. One night when we were walking on the sidewalk and you asked me if I thought you were funny and sexy. I am honest. I said no, thinking it was only fair to be so brave to give an honest answer to an honest question. That is the only thing about me that makes you angry. Because I didn't say that you were funny and sexy. Checking your chest you watch the wound pull itself apart and see your theory born onto the sidewalk. You confess that you wanted to be funny and sexy. You think everyone does. I cannot apologize for not wanting to be desired by you. I can also not apologize for not desiring you the way you say that I do. It is your confidence that kills you, not my inability to reciprocate your feelings.
I underestimated the thick lining of your skull. Dim. Subtle hints and even the not so subtle ones, that I thought hard about before saying because I thought they were too rash, did not phase you. You continued to listen to your confidence. Has it told you that it is only getting you back to yourself? Haven't made it that far around the circle yet? I want to remain friends, remain meaning stay that way. Yes, stay. We were never anything more than friends no matter how you nor I felt about anything, or each other. We are friends. You will hopefully realize that is all we can be. Why force two different feelings to be felt the same way? It is not possible, practical, nor romantic. I would rather you be yourself and my friend, than you trying to be someone you think I want you to be romantically. I don't want you to be anyone but who you are because I think that is wonderful, and I want to feel like I can love how God has called us to love without your humanistic sexual feelings interrupting the growth.
How I am to address you with this, I am still unsure, but I do know where to send it.