As we sit in blissful silence I feel safe and content. You are the one I don’t need to try with. I want to rest my head on your shoulder and have you rest your head on mine. I want you to stroke my back as I close my eyes and forget about the day. I can forget about work and non-work. It will be just me and you laughing about aliens and Jon Snow.
You told me you’re afraid you’re unable to ever form bonds. You feel anxious around people – even your best friend. You worry about going out and would much rather be alone. Silence worries you. “But a few years ago you said you can be silent around me, has that changed?” “No.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cool. I feel safe around you too,” I say. “I feel the connection too. It feels like electricity on my knees and a coolness in my mind,” I do not say.
And months have gone by. I introduce you to my friend. And you decide to give it a go. “She’s perfect for you.” I say. “I wish you had tried with me” I do not say.
I know I do not love you. So why do I feel shards sticking into me every time you speak about her?