i’m just going to sleep

I am in caffeine withdrawal but it’s only the second day. And I didn’t really withdraw because I had not one, but two, leftover chocolate bars this morning, although none since then. I’m starting to get a headache and I’m definitely very, very tired. I feel nothing unusual at all in terms of hormones, my uterus, or nausea. I’ve read the ‘trying to conceive’ forums online and some people have said they felt absolutely nothing whatsoever for the first few days. But the ova (huevo, it’s that word again, the egg) was several days old. I forget how many days it lasts before it dies.

I’m hearing voices swearing in Spanish. Jacob meowed to be let in, just as I started to get comfortable writing this, and as I got up, annoyed, the voices said ‘Puta la verga!’ (basically it means ‘fuck the dick.’)

On the day when I had a note in my pocket, but was too scared to give it to Agustin in the way that I had given him in a note before, in a particular location at a particular time, because that exact place and time is the very best moment for secretly giving him something – I didn’t do it because I was too scared.

Afterwards, I walked past him, and I saw, out of the corner of my eyes, a posture of his body and a look on his face, although he was having a conversation with Carlos. I don’t know how he projects these images, postures, and feelings into me by magic, but I saw, again, a look I can only describe as ‘stricken.’ He was very young, a very small boy, and it absolutely broke my heart, it ripped my heart out of my chest, I could never hurt someone who looked like that, never. He didn’t even do this gesture openly or visibly – like I said, he was actually having a conversation with Carlos. Was it a mind control incident – I don’t really think so, I think I actually saw something real, some real images, some postures and microexpressions and my brain was able to process them. That stricken look – agony, if only I could just grab him and hold him right then and there, in front of everyone, whenever I want to. I can’t ignore a person who has this pain.

But these are things that I cannot really process or understand or believe. And then I started hearing voices in my head that moment and they were portraying him as having anticipated getting a note but not getting one. It was like, every moment like this, every time something like this happened, it was just as if I was ending the relationship permanently and forever, even though from my point of view I wasn’t.

There are many sides of him that I cannot directly interact with – I can’t speak Spanish except just a few words. If I need to say something that includes the words ‘fuck the dick’ and so on, then I can say those things. I can watch him as he interacts with other people, as he does random things all day long, and love him from afar, but yet, I can’t directly talk to that part of his personality. For example there was one moment when he was singing along with a particular song and moving his hands with the song, and I loved him from afar, so much, but yet I cannot be in that space with him, in that same world with him, in that space where he is singing and dancing and loving. I am apart from him.

It is a new and wonderful thing to put my head down onto the shoulder of a boy who is as tall as I am. How different – I am always with men who are six feet tall or at least much taller than I am.

I have this awareness that there is something which is too high for me, too glorious and beautiful for me, something that I do not deserve or cannot have or cannot be a part of. I can say it’s because of socionics, because I am not his dual – but who understands socionics? I have to describe it in my own words. It’s the feeling that I will never be the one he’s singing that song to – even if he sang it to me, directly, while looking at me, I wouldn’t be able to receive it and take it and have it, I would not be in the moment. I would always know that I wasn’t really good enough for him. I am not the recipient of all of his love, his strongest love, all of the love that he has to give. I can only receive just one tiny fraction of all of the love that he has to give.

So strange to love him from afar, and also to be with him. To love something that I will never really understand and will never really be part of. It is this painful desire to belong to another world, where it seems as though everything there is bright and joyful and wonderful, and I envy those people over there. His world is full of this light.

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