Tuesday, November 09, 2004

"Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain."

Title from Love's Labour Lost & IMDB.

Btw, I write this post before fully considering whether I should write it.

I spent over 5 hours with The Girl tonight, more hanging out and so on. We have become friends such that most anything is ripe for discussion, not everything but most anything. For a change, we hung at her place after a foray to the Wood -n- Tap (for coffee and sustenance). Talking the while. (And please do excuse the odd grammar and language. 'Tis late and my language grows stranger by the hour, not by the bottle.) Of most interest to mind comes her observation that, contrary to previous expressions and probably owing to subsequent or coinciding interactions, she has not written off the ex-fiancee as yet. Her phrase used was that she "is open" and has not closed things off totally (as that is not her proclaimed style). Disturbing to me not in the slightest (but the greater) and I only hope my countenance did not betray any inward signs of discord or distress. (I have faith that it did not though that may be worth only the paper upon which it is printed.)

Tonight probably came the closest yet to anything resembling a communicae concerning anything beyond friendship, though it did not do so overtly by any means. Whether it exists in actuality or only in my own imagination, I perceive (or imagine?) her to be in a difficult position. Two men, one of whom with things did not work out "the last time" and one of whom she has known for scarcely a month. Yet, both to whom she "connects" to some degree. Toss in the other obligations such as law school and work and things are not clear by any degree.

I would be lying if I said the reconnection with the ex-fiancee did not bother me. I would be lying if I did not express that which some part of her (if not her consciously) knows, that I would rather it be something other than friends. Also that were it not for her ex-fiancee (laughably, were things not the way they are), I well imagine we would have chanced other waters than friendship, if for nothing other than the chancing.

Part of me is almost annoyed that I am some cause of some (small) element of turmoil in her life (assuming such import could be granted me and mine at this juncture, no small assumption by any). Part of me hopes I am such a cause for it insinuates other what-ifs. Part of me wonders if not I should remain a passive spectre in the picture, mildly aloof and exceedingly patient, awaiting her choice, her actions, her outcome (as I have to date). And the last part of me wonders if I should not confront her and force her to pin down an answer, for me at least, so that if it is in the negative I can undertake a brief stint of alcohol so as to alleviate or mollify the pain.

That's a lot of parts, wonderment and uncertainty, but such is my mind in reflection of the night at an hour past 3am. I still don't know if she reads this blog, these entries. I like to think I print nothing unflattering or shameful by any degree but rather things that I would be willing to speak if so prompted (as I have not to this date). But if she were to read this, then I suggest that my inner turmoil, which abides by patience more than anything else, is in some way comparable to hers.

Alas, should things go South, as they could and may, perhaps I may yet see friendship on the other side and no more. Then again, were she to reconnect with the ex-fiancee, could I knowingly remain her friend and ally, all the while harboring what-ifs and could-have-beens? Or is that inherently distasteful to my own demeanor so as to preclude such a non-relationship or merit a delay or waiting period before I would be amenable? I think the latter has struck an epiphany within me. And I think the latter more likely in the face of defeat. I really am an all-or-nothing sort of fellow, huh. 'Tis sad and troublesome in its own right. Sometimes I hate being the kind of person I am.

Well, the hour is late and I am weary. Two and half hours sleep is better than two and I must dally with unconsciousness, if for no other reason than to regain my non-gilded tongue and finish off the Antitrust paper for tomorrow morning. (Seems like I end up spending the nights before Antitrust papers are due awake late with The Girl. This is 2 out of 2 now, with 2 more to go.) Good night & good morning. Things will undoubtedly seem better in the morning, as they undoubtedly seemed better before I began this post. I seem to have painted myself into a dark corner born of the usual fears and unknowns. Not surprising but unpleasant.