Mr.Aloof came over to my house. He was here. In my hallway. On the sofa. In my kitchen. In my HOUSE.
And now he's gone.
I know I've said here that we were going to meet up for drinks. He said he'd come north of the river. This in itself was a reasonably big achievement. I'd like to forge that in the over a year that we were sort of together he came north of the river probably.... four times that come to mind. Now to be fair, he did drive me home a handful of other times- right to my door. And we would neck in the car for an hour, and he wouldn't come up, and he'd drive home. Point being, Mr.Aloof, has never been into my house.
So recently, he suggested meeting for drinks. Well, let me backtrack. We hadn't spoken really for a couple months. It was when I went to Chicago at the end of August. I was on messenger, he came on, and because I was hanging around SH's house, we talked. For hours. And it was really good to talk. And since then, he's been fairly consistent with the keeping up via emails. Which, to be entirely fair, is also completely unusual. I'm not sure we ever stayed in such constant contact without him disappearing for a week or six here or there. So a couple weeks back when he suggested that we meet for a drink, I agreed.
In my heart, I know this is probably not for the best. I like him. I didn't split with him because we weren't getting along. I split with him because I enjoyed my time with him so much, I wanted more and more of it. And he didn't. And that hurt me so deeply, I couldn't bear the good times, for all the hurt that came with it.
But I thought I would meet for a drink. See how it was. See what the damage was. What would be the harm? We were supposed to meet last week Tuesday. But I got dreadfully ill and called it off. He suggested Thursday, but I was still feeling pretty crappy. So it got bumped to this Tuesday. And for a moment on Monday and Tuesday, I thought he was pulling his usual disappearing act, and I felt angry and vindicated, yet oddly calm and also uncaring. But then he got in touch and said he was coming tonight. And not only was he coming north, but he would come to my house.
Now that was pretty sneaky no? I hadn't invited him to my house. Obviously it was a point of some contention when we were together- that he never had come to my house. But it wasn't like now, after everything, that I was going to be like 'Oh, come to my house.' I thought we were just meeting for a drink. But no, next thing I know, he's driving up to mine, and knocking on my front door. Of course, I arranged for flatmate D to be conveniently gone tonight. I thought, "Okay, maybe we'll have a drink, then we'll go get some dinner locally and he'll probably take off." Yeah. I can be really blind sometimes.
It was strange. He stood outside for a bit. "Are you going to come in?" I asked him, head peeping out between the door jamb.
"I'm not sure!" he said. And I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the entrance. And we hugged, and kissed on the cheek. So far so good. Then I made us some lovely green and blacks hot chocolate with organic whole milk (mmmmmm). And basically we curled up together on the sofa, drank hot chocolate, listened to music, and talked. And talked and talked and talked and talked. Always in contact. Always in touch. Nothing I wouldn't consider appropriate with some of my very close male friends. But he's not my very close male friend. He's my ex-lover. And it was charged.
For three hours we cuddled a bit and yapped. Snacked on some food, moved onto a glass of wine each. And he said he probably needed to head home. So he dragged himself up and was getting ready to go, and we were still talking away. And of course he stood up, and we hugged, and a hug became a bear hug, and a nuzzle into the neck, and kissing. Of course it did. And it was so nice to be held. To be kissed by someone you want to be kissing. And then he left, saying he'd see me again soon, in a few days.
What am I doing. I know it's probably not a good idea. But it's so pleasant this part. And it's not like I have other prospects I'm neglecting. It's not even like I've stopped looking, I just sent two emails to guys off online dating sites who wrote to me. So what's wrong with feeling good for a little bit when you have the chance?
Fuck. It's a slippery slope. That's what's wrong. Can I do this without losing my head and my heart? Probably not. But am I going to try it? Probably so.
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