My Next Bold Move

Um. Yeah.

I've been trying to come up with the words to communicate what's going on in my head since last night. I know the words. I don't like those words. I'm trying to come up with other words. The words I know scare me.

I know he can see it in my eyes. I know he can tell by the way I look at him. I can't help it. I've tried. At one point, while we were snuggling, looking at each other across the pillow he asked me "What?" He had the twinkle in his eye that said he knew damn well "what", but he wanted to hear me say it. I just like looking at him across the pillow. I like playing "Where's Waldo" looking for the grey hairs on his chest. I like the feel of his lips when he kisses my eyelids. I like the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, watching the ceiling fan spin around.

There are a lot of things I've quit trying to hide. It's all too out in the open now and I'd look like an ass anyway. I get a jealous streak when his phone rings and its a girl. The little green eyed monster flares up when he tells me about the people he went drinkin with the other night. Sometimes he's just so adorable I have to say it, no matter how hard I try not to. And when he looks at me...in just that way, I can't help but to kiss him.

I've thought a lot about the comments I got on the last posting. Specifically the ones suggesting that I just let it go and love while I can. I don't know that I have a choice. I know he won't love me back. But love isn't about loving just because someone loves you back. At this stage in the game it doesn't matter whether he ever loves me back. I don't know that I want him to love me back. It would only hurt that much more when he leaves. But I can love him.

The interesting thing about it is he hasn't been putting up much of a fight lately. As much as I know he doesn't want me to love him, he seems to have accepted it in some way. He seems to have come to terms with the fact. He doesn't love me. I've accepted that. But he seems to be ok with letting me love him. Maybe that's his small gift to me before we leave.

And the preparations to leave are going well. I have a plan. I think I have job lined up. I'm going back to the southland where I can actually get biscuits and gravy at the drive-through. I'm selling my soul to the highest bidder. I'm becoming a cog in the machinery of the legal mechanism. The semester ends the first week of November, and I can finish grading papers from "there". My poor little first year law students will just have to make due with a new teacher next semester. Maybe I can find some new first years to torment down south.

I'm looking forward to the seventy hour work week. I'm looking forward to having no time for a social life. I'm looking forward to having money in the bank and no time to spend it. I'm looking forward to billing the client being the only thing on my mind. I'm looking forward to being able to forget, or at least not have time to remember.