Since September of last year, (wow, it’s LAST year) I’ve been hanging out with a guy that I met online 2-3 years ago.

I was surprised to discover that he was working here. And when I saw him in Facilities, I couldn’t bring myself to approach him because I had this huge crush on him before. And I felt really awkward and self-conscious.

So after a few weeks, I found out that he was interested with me after all. And we started hanging out, smoking, or getting starbucks. At first we always went in a group. And we almost never spoke directly to each other. Then eventually, we’d go just the two of us.

I always made a conscious effort not to be affectionate with him, especially after I heard he was in a relationship. This is herculean for me, knowing how touchy I am. And you know how it is when you’re consciously trying to avoid something, every sense, every iota of feeling associated to it becomes intensified.

I remember our first conversation– well it was more of a non-conversation because we had no words. He wouldn’t even look at me. I told him, you don’t enjoy chatting much do you? He just smiled.

Eventually,we started talking about random work-related things, but always at least a three feet apart.

As the days went by, I grew comfortable enough to brush against his arm when we’re walking. Touch his hair. Look into his eyes. Pat his back. Take a picture together. I remember one time I even put my head on his shoulder.

impending doom

impending doom

 But to hold his hand–

I think will be disastrous for me. Why am I so addicted with keeping myself just before the things that I absolutely want? Some of his team mates have been encouraging me to pursue him despite his current relationship. But I don’t want to be that guy.

I fancy him so, in a way that I feel intense infatuation. But consciously, short of love. I know that if I give in that I will only be counting the days until he is lost forever.

I think of him as a hovering fantasy. My precious horseman of the apocalypse. The contents of my Christmas stocking.

Forever a mystery.

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