Very few people in my life can stir my pot like Grey can. I know he doesn't mean to do it and he'd probably make a concerted effort not to if he realized that he was; he's the type that prefers things stay on an even, steady keel. I know that and so I try to serve him up as little of it as I can, mostly because I don't want him to make that effort. And why? Well, if I'm honest it's because I....like it. Yeah. I'm the one that likes it. I'm the one that wants it and needs it so that I can feel a spark of life flicker in an otherwise muted existence. I'm the one that wants him to remind me that I can still care because I dread the alternative. In truth, then, I help him stir that pot.
He acknowledges that we share more than a friendship. I think he simultaneously likes it, and is disturbed by it. I think while there's a part of him that wants to go back to the way it was between us a decade or so ago, before things changed, there is this other part of him that needs to know that he has made an impact. He enjoys the frissons between us even as they make him uncomfortable. He doesn't like talking about it too much, though, because while going over old ground has never been his style, it's always been mine.
There are two sides that I find myself on and sometimes one side weighs the most and sometimes the other does. This...conundrum of him...continually exists for me. Sometimes I even wonder if I conjure it myself and keep feeding it so that it will remain. Perhaps I do. I do know that in this regard, the questions I ask myself have only partial answers.
In other news I'm glad to report that the news that struck me as a surprise eight days ago doesn't bother me much at all any longer. If BiB ever decides to respond to me that might change, but for now things are as they were. Life goes on.
Grey is a different story. But then.....isn't he always?
Song: "The Way We Were" by Barbara Streisand. Lyrics here: