Bereaved by the Living

When my mind is bereft of him he visits me at night. I see him through unconscious eyes. Sometimes he is apathetic, other times engrossed in me. Either way it's frustrating, because if he's not here he's there. I don't know a terrible lot about him, other than our similarities. I'd like to become better acquainted with our anomalies. I have evidence that he's thought of me when I'm not around, but it must not be enough for him to pick up the telephone. Perhaps I pine because I want what I can't have. But how can that be, when I never questioned his attainability?

If he planned to never call he shouldn't have accepted my proposition. He should have apologized and said he didn't want to get involved. I would have been disappointed but it would at least give me the opportunity to get over my grievance. This way I'm stuck in purgatory; I'm neither in heaven nor hell. If it continues as I apprehend it will, my heart will slowly wither until I can't be sure its there at all. How can I heal when I still anticipate him? I'm always hopeful. It hasn't waned. I will continue to be because that's my way. It's been a month. If I were smart, I'd accept that he probably wouldn't call and stop hugging my cell phone to me everywhere I totter around. But I can't help it. I can't help it at all.

Yes, I am morose. But at least I'm not like this constantly. I promise I won't make posts like this often; in fact this may be the first and the last. But it had to be said anyway. Matt, don't worry: I'm still happy and won't post dribbling sobs all the time. But everyone has his or her moments, and I'm having mine now, darn it all.

And you know the most obtuse part of it all? If he had said no, I wouldn't be mulling over him anymore. It's an evil scheme. He's got me wrapped in his web of lies and like the gullible fly I am I've got myself caught up in it all.