. . . is like asking for Cherry Coke and getting flat cola with not enough grenadine in it.
I had an IM conversation with a friend today. He was talking about the girl he likes, explaining that he likes her more than she likes him. He explained that this is a problem that he's figured out about himself, that he too often sees more in a relationship than do the girls with whom he has the relationship.
I didn't tell him that that's the way I feel about him. It wouldn't have helped. He's made a point of explaining that he's not gay when I've messed with him about it. He doesn't know how I really feel, that I've actually had some amount of trouble getting myself over him. He doesn't need to know.
But I know, and our conversation, while helpful to him in figuring out the direction he plans to take, didn't help me at all. It merely served to slam me back into a place I thought I'd gotten passed. He's a great friend and someone I'm glad to have in my life, but it's hard to accept that I can't have him in my life in the way I want.
It makes me want to smash my head into the wall, but I learned years ago how little benefit there is in that. It's really too bad that, on some level, I'm still doing it, knowing all the time that it only hurts me. The wall doesn't give a shit.
edited to add: if you see yourself in the above, please understand that it really is okay and I promise I didn't tell anyone else. Also, I forgot that I told you about my blog, but I'm leaving this up anyway. I deal in melodrama like Republicans deal in lies and being assholes. It's just how I am.