allegro

So it's been sorta the return of #3. He refuses to go away. Not that I'd want him to, I'm so terribly fond of him. I wish I could just be friends with him, but it doesn't seem to work. Certainly it works better than it used to; I don't lose my ability to think when I see him anymore (At least, I've cut down the amount of time I lose considerably. That's something, right?).
Still feels remain. We still want each other. He may not love me anymore the same way (though he certainly could), but he definitely still wants me. I still love him more than I'm willing to admit to myself (though far less than I did), and I still want him enormously. I miss those perfect kisses.

We parted agreeing that we'd still want each other, e just couldn't love each other. He agreed to my melodramatic promise to love him again when we're both widowed.

I keep growing away from him, which is good for the soul, then getting pulled back in little pieces. For example, at his birthday party (which is also his wife's birthday party, as they have the exact same birthday. word.), just before I leave at the end of the night, his drunken self holds me close to sing the opening line of Amy Winehouse's "Just Friends" (the last song on the last disk I made him):

When will we get
The time to be
Just Friends?

He lets go a little and we look at each other. I laugh and say "apparently never." He laughs with me.

He tells me he misses my text messages.
I neglected to tell him that he doesn't get those anymore because we decided to stop the whole shebang.
He tells me that he loves me. I know he means it a little different, but in a way the same.

I can't resist.

The next day I send him a text.
"So do you still love me, or was that the beer talking?"

He replies:
"I may have been drunk, but I knew exactly what I was saying."

So while it's not everyday, there are texts again. There's the return of every "I dreamt of you" or "I was thinking of you all day" we muster. There are songs again: the old songs, and there are new songs. (Examples: Him to me - "Bad Things" [TrueBlood theme song], me to him - "Astronaut" [Amanda Palmer]).
I've already associated too much music I love with him, but as he demands more of my thinking time he gets more of my music. Music is my lifeblood, this makes him an Asshole. Who I care about.

It's very wrong. Well, not too too wrong. There's certainly no physical business going on. You won't find me sneaking over to his apartment for shenanigans any time soon. Our joking about such things has truly become joking, if a little charged. And we did what we said we would: we love each other less, or at least a little differently (and maybe, guiltily, a little the same). He doesn't drive me to distraction like he used to, which is welcome.

Still, I'm going crazy sitting in rehearsals as sound designer and ASM watching him get to make out with half the cast (as his wife directs).
Gods, I still wanna touch him.
Damn but I want to slap him and tell him to stop making me the responsible one who'll have to say, "No, we said we stopped this and we will."

Truth is, we know we're good for each other's egos. His wanting me changed the way I saw myself. Apparently, I've had a pretty big affect on him too. As such, we'll keep each other around just a little.

He still loves his beautiful wife (who doesn't hate me anymore!).
I still love my incredible boyfriend (who never hated him).

As long as it goes no further, we may actually be ok (even if I hate him a little).
Of course, that would mean no more interesting stories, wouldn't it?


Sorry dudes, I'm not gonna make more drama for the sake of your reading. I love ya, but that's too much.