04/08/2012

sometimes i find it funny that i spend hours thinking about the things i need to write and process and when i finally get here, my mind is completely blank.

heath came to my work again today. we talked, he teared up, he told me how different he is and i almost believe him. i’ve spent much of the afternoon replaying us but there are too many what if’s, too many trust issues, too much bad history. he held my hand when we talked and looked into my eyes and told me that he knows he was horrible to me. it makes my stomach pang to think about it and i don’t know why.

i came home from work to find eric napping. i curled up to him and felt him breathe and he pulled my hand to his chest and told me how happy he was that i was home. we’ve finally stopped fighting and i hope it continues this way. my feelings are on track one day and off the next and it concerns me.

i wish heath would stay out of the picture. it makes me angry on one hand, but i can’t deny the feelings on the other. i mean, not whole, important feelings. they’re more of tiny inklings or memories of feelings. there’s so much i have now that i couldn’t have when i was with him — friends, my family, body acceptance, love.

love.

i think about eric wrapping his body around mine before we fall asleep. i think about the way he smiles when i kiss his face in the morning. there’s this incredible amount of comfort i’ve never had with anyone. it’s so different than what i had with heath.

it’s kind and gentle and forgiving. there are better words and better images to describe all of this, but when i try to think of things i can only picture eric sweeping our kitchen completely naked and the way he’s been practicing his "evil laugh", which apparently gives him liberty to bust it out all the time.

they are completely different men offering me such different things. i don’t know. i could never curl into heath the way i do eric. i could never express myself the way i do with eric. but eric will not, for the forseeable future, challenge me the way heath did. that’s what i miss. the intellect. the long conversations about history and philosophy and literature.

man.