He made me laugh non-stop as he couldn't help himself with the commentary. When he'd entered my house and spotted the bright red 9FT long board in the corner, he turned to me panic stricken and hyperventilated, "You surf? You didn't tell me you surf!!!". When did surfing turn to murder? I told him to calm the eff down, it wasn't like I was about to surf right then and there in the living room. He was the only boy in a family of sisters, and the softness he acquired from being both bullied by and having to protect them peeked through.
He had a hard time believing it was all happening and took every care he could of me. He was exactly who I needed.
Unfortunately, as the Golden Venus would later say, I'd Lilith'd him. Going Lilith on a man is essentially when you touch him so well and so authentically, it short circuits his system that he simply must, to save his life, disappear on you. Imagine Adam having flash backs and it's Eden with that goddamned apple all over again. He has to say No before it destroys him and the rest of the known world. Except unlike Eve going poe faced and blaming the snake, Lilith would unapologetically say yes she did it and here's why.
Finally after months, I let him fade away. And began to be grateful of the sense of his leaving. Clearly he was not prepared. Neither was I, though I was far braver I think. Tammo, my beautiful Piscean actor friend, would bite out, "This is the LAST thing you need." And she was right.
It had left me with terrible doubts. In fact, after a while, it pretty much convinced me to adopt a lopsided kind of Rational Egotism when it came to relationships. I began to believe and sometimes still do, that how good, kind or deserving I am or even how beautiful, has absolutely nothing to do with the if and when of romantic love. The two do not relate to each other, or so I struggled through this after him.
I say lopsided as it hardly affected my resolve to be good to those I bestow my affections on, but fatalistically, I began to think it would be pointless to expect that back. Oddly, I didn't blame him for this. He was just another one of the walking wounded, though I was angry that he had dithered for so long, unable to make up his mind. And here he was, still unable to call me. Yet equally unable to stay away.
How would I answer? What would I say?