Something has dribbled out of my conversations with YMK. He’s not the same. I try to get him to talk, but our conversations have become insubstantial, stilted and monosyllabic.
I don’t know how to feel, but then this is not a new condition of this relationship. I am oddly divorced from it all. As in it isn’t effecting me the way I think it ought to. I have feelings for him, but I’m beginning to think I should take on some of these fellas eyeing me up.
I don’t understand what is happening, and when I do try to push him into talking to me, he either says I’m pressuring him or he changes the subject.
It’s getting so I dread talking to him. I don’t want to call him on the phone, and I’m caught between glad to see he’s online on MSN and not wanting to initiate conversation of any kind.
When we do MSN, he keeps the conversation so light, so ‘not-really-there’ that I don’t feel like talking at all.
Where did our non-stop conversations go? Where is that spark of intellectual drive go between us?
The thing is, I’m not even really frustrated, or angry, or even disappointed. I am, maybe momentarily numb, dreading the next conversation because it’s probably going to be more of the same, and that is even more unbearable than the distance between us.
Out of sight, out of mind right?
Suddenly I am feeling, maybe he is not the answer to the question I have been asking. He’s not the solution to my loneliness problem.
He tells me nothing has changed. He’s coming to England, but the indication is he’s coming in his time frame and not one that will suit me; nothing like what he declared prior to my leaving Trinidad.
I cannot put my finger on what I feel, but there’s a part of me that is anticipating some final discussion, some discussion that will release him from any obligation to me and allow me to look elsewhere.
I wonder if that is what he wants, but I do not know how to broach the subject with him. He just isn’t in the mood to talk, at least to me.
I still miss him with a ferocity, but it’s the conversation and company I miss more than his physicality and it’s effect on mine.
He says he misses me, but there’s a part of me that wonders what he’s up to. It’s like a transperancy in his behaviour that I cannot quite articulate.
He says nothing has changed, but I feel it has… it’s palpable and real, yet I cannot articulate it precisely, because it is just beyond my understanding.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am adrift, I am adrift. That’s me, always waiting, waiting.