rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

After a post like that, I never quite know how to start the next one. Its tempting to just leave it at that and not write until everything has gone back to normal. Well, I suppose 'normal' may not be what it was before. To return to a state of 'normalcy' would be a step backward and an attempt to sit in the corner of a circular room.

I've had some time to think about this whole thing. Perhaps that was the reason why I'm so cynical about meeting someone that actually gets me? Or that was just the consequences of never really facing my past and the person I left behind. That makes more sense.

It can never really go back to way it was before - not right now anyway. The 'friend' square is now compromised of watching what we say, carefully measuring out our words, and, on my part, trying my hardest to keep my gaze steady on his face. It words only sometimes - memories are sneaky, backstabbing little bastards and I still sometimes have to back off and pretend that something caught my eye. There is a certain space we need to keep, for my sake since my mind tends to run a bit wild somewhere between panic and anticipation, between us. Can't really talk about Texas yet - which is the one thing I can tell he's itching to talk to me about. Ugh.

He is trying - that much I can tell and good for him, he has more patience than I do. Hasn't changed much. Smile is still the same, maybe more guarded when its around me, his laugh still makes me smile and he still has that irritatingly calming (it was irritating when I was pissed) feel about him. These little observations are baby-steps. One of these days I'll be able to say to him, quite plainly, what I really mean.