The answer is love

At 8:30 this morning, his alarm sounded and I lazily lifted my head from the crook of his arm to look out the window at the falling snowflakes. I live in the deep South these days, this ain't normal, its no common thing. Its no common thing to wake pressed against The Dane and yet it feels more and more normal every time it happens. We watched the snow from his window for a moment before burrowing back under his covers, bare skin touching bare skin.

I dreamed he told me he loved me.

I dreamed I said it back.

I felt ashamed talking to him as we slowly woke up on this snow day, fearful he would be able to tell the truth about me, ashamed Dream Me is too obvious in her desires. Play it cool is all I keep telling myself. He has to come to it on his own terms. I know this. I cannot change his mind by sheer will. But spending 24 hours holed up with him, anticipating Magical Snow, felt easy and comfortable. He made me coffee and cinnamon toast last night when we briefly put on some article of clothing, we sat facing each other in his kitchen, looking each other in the eye, feet intertwined, and told stories.

I can't say how many times I've told myself I'm setting myself up to fail, how alike we are, The Dane and me, how me going it alone is probably best for me, is the way for me to accomplish all I want to and maybe propel me back out of this small town sooner rather than later. Me going it alone makes it impossible to settle, not that The Dane would be settling but that being a pair means compromising, and I'm not getting any younger but since when is 27 old? I have time to fall in love, but isn't that the point of it all?

The least sexy post yet

I know I said I'm not holding my breath waiting around for this man, for The Dane, for this man I refused to date last year and who now I can't unthink. But maybe I lied. Maybe I am holding my breath. Maybe I have been playing a small game where I don't allow myself to initiate conversation with him to see if he will.

I woke to a message from him a few days ago telling me something cool that happened to him at work. I smiled and responded while still in bed, registering the new day and feeling an unnatural level of giddiness. I can't interpret these sorts of things as 'signs' even though I am. I like talking to him, hearing his stories and being part of his daily life. Waking up next to him, sharing coffee in bed and playing songs we think the other will like has created intimacy without meaning to, intimacy that I can't unthink.

Workplace diplomacy

The things I cannot say because I work at my desk five feet from you at your desk: I know that it could be my fault as easily as it could have been your careless mistake, but I can't stand to see you. I can't see you walking in the door, I can't see you in the corridor, I can't bear for you to ask me a question in the office because I know I must answer you so as not to arouse suspicion but the only thing I can think to respond is the petty thing, the You told me via text you might have given me an STI, and that's certainly not diplomatic.

Unrequited

The Dane said he isn't boyfriend material and if I've learned anything in my 27 years its that when a man tells you he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you - for whatever reason - listen to him. I am not going to change his mind with wooing or sex or determination. He will come to it on his own. But I'm not holding a candle or my breath hoping he changes his mind.

I ran into him on the street a few weeks ago and things happen as they do and I woke up with him in my bed and then with him having coffee and sharing a day old Wall Street Journal and knew then that I was falling in love with him. This  cannot be an option in my carefully orchestrated life. He doesn't want a relationship. I need to not think myself in love with him.