This is the stuff that I'm not terribly good at. I'll be the first to admit it. And sometimes I just think about giving up this part and jumping straight to the consolation prize, the completely harmless Buddyship that can be so comforting and so warm. I like that part of things. I like the ease with which good interaction can come when you're not trying to gauge the other person's reaction, because you don't need to judge the reaction of a Buddy. That's why they're a Buddy.
And I like Buddies. But I've got a lot of them, and while they're entirely pleasant company, there's something else I think I may be after. Not something "more," necessarily, because that implies that my Buddies are somehow less, and if you had ever met Nic, Sam, Catchpole, Easton, etc., you could know with a certainty that standards for Buddyship are pretty damned high. It's a short list, but a powerful one, and I have no issue keeping it that way.
But it's winter soon and I'm tired of eating all of the food that a part of me is sometimes cooking for you. I want Goodnights. I want Goodmornings. Not necessarily in that order and not with any kind of stunting regularity, as my resources to either give or receive those on a titular basis are mostly depleted at this moment, moreso than they have been for a long time. I've had my fill of definitions and titles and necessity and expectation, and I've decided that those, when not arrived at organically, generally end up poisoning the proverbial well with their unholy, destructive combination of politics and semantics, and that's contrary to the point of the whole thing, anyway.
But who's to say what's really going on. Not me, certainly. The one constant over the last any number of years is my own personal bewilderment at what's going on around me, but I'm trying reeeeeeeal hard to contextualize any/everything. I think I'm doing a moderately good job, for what it's worth, and rest assured, efforts, including those toward some sort of tempering of statements/passions/feelings/what have you, are being made. After spending so long out of breath, the last thing that someone should do is suffocate someone else.
And sometimes I wonder if those efforts, such as they are, should be somehow sublimated into an entirely dispassionate but not altogether unpleasant system of base interaction and that I should just be satisfied with that. I bet that being your good friend is really, really great. And I can imagine that a relationship (as opposed to a Relationship) like that would be something I'd be awful happy to have.
And then there are other times when I wonder what your eyes look like after you've been kissed by a man who doesn't want much besides being along for the ride.