See, Thomas and I had hung out all day on 4/20 for a good 13+ hours doing what we do, which is -- well -- nothing in particular. That day left me tired, but in a good way. But the next day we were sitting in my car, writing on each other with sharpies and pens like we've done several times before. (I'm now accustomed to having writing on my arms) Somehow though things were different. You know when you look at someone and know what they are thinking? Well when I looked at Thomas I just KNEW it. I knew we were treading on sketchy territory: the line between friends and somewhat-more-than-friends. I didn't know what to do. I went into evasion mode.
He and I hold hands when we're alone (or just around his sister)... A LOT. It's not even just regular hand-holding. It's like vicious hand fighting or something. Pulling at fingers and poking and pinching and tracing palms and stuff. I never thought anything of it. In fact, I like it, a lot. I'm not a touchy person but holding hands with a person like that seems just so.. just... different from hugging or whatever.
I guess somewhere along the line the handholding became more gentle, palm-in-palm, or fingers laced together or such. HA! Again, somehow I was totally blind to the simple change in action as a sign of a change in feelings. Or escalation, or something. I also think some part of me didn't care.
And the day after 4/20 the writing on my arm started to paint a picture that suggested the same thing:
HE REALLY LIKES YOU!
I could sense the frustration when he tried to "give me the hint"; you see, I've never been "given the hint" before. However, writing "you are beautiful" on someone's arm, or "take me seriously" and "I like you even though you hate yourself" and the combination of non-violent handholding (that is, not hand-wrestling) is pretty indicative that someone really likes you.
TMSIALY - "Take me seriously I actually like you" (smudge is name on business card that is blurred out)
The entire night I avoided admitting that I knew what he was writing. I won't go into detail about how I did it. I don't even KNOW how I did it. However, when I had to leave and go home, I got around the corner and then I pulled the car over and sent him a simple text: "I'm sorry for idk." I wanted to cry because I didn't feel the same way back and I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to say the wrong thing and I just didn't want things to change. I was fine with being friends who happened to be very hand-physical.
When I got home I read the message "I don't want you to be sorry, I want you to understand what I'm trying to say to you." Fifteen minutes later: "I'm pretty sure you know what I'm trying to say, I just wish you would acknowledge it". I did indeed know what he was trying to say. I just didn't know how to respond.
I have this lovely thing plaguing me called mixed feelings. I don't know what I'm feeling at any given moment. He knows this. I am rarely an example of a singular emotion, and I usually don't know how to explain my feelings to people. I'm severely conflicted pretty much all the time. I wrote back about how I didn't know what to say or do. I didn't know how I felt.
This morning I woke up with a feeling of dread in the depths of my stomach (also, I hadn't eaten much the previous day, which could have also played a part in that). The confliction hadn't gone away. The problem was that I liked Thomas more than a regular friend, but I didn't like him in the same way he liked me.
We had ascertained the previous night that I didn't like him intensely in that way. I do care intensely about him, however. But I would never trust my feelings with him and I could not put my emotional welfare in his hands.
Today he went to pick up something with me from someone off of Craigslist. I didn't want to go alone and possibly get kidnapped, so I asked him to come along. He willingly obliged, even though he had the idea that things might be more awkward between us than usual. After we picked up said item we sat around in the car for awhile enjoying the warmth of the day and the awkward silence of being unsure what to do next. After a while I was telling a story about this park I had went to when I was younger that was in town, he told me we should go to that park, so we drove around looking for it and found it. It was different than I remembered, but it was indeed the park. And it was beautiful, with a community garden and a fishing pond and bridges and forest.
We walked around at the park and hand-fought and laid next to each other in the grass and tied little rings of grass on eachother's fingers. We walked across the bridges and spat into the water and leaned on and pushed each other and I knew I shouldn't be giving such mixed signals but goddamnit, I just wanted things to be normal and not weird. Unfortunately the weirdness had already started and it doesn't just stop!
He carved into the safety railing of the bridge, "I just don't know what to do." And he wrote on my arm with his finger, "You are confusing."
It's true! I ADMIT IT! I'm confusing. I give mixed signals. Newsflash guise, confused people don't give clear signals. (Just in case you didn't know.)
The day was lovely but at times awkward and confusing -- more awkward and confusing for him than for I. I don't mind being unable to define relationships, and I'm complacent with uncertainty sometimes. But for some people, "It's complex" isn't enough of an explanation of how you feel, and I dread the day when I'll have to explain further what I mean. I have a feeling it won't go over entirely well.
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