I've Spent Some Time...

...deciding whether or not this is a good idea. I’m still not convinced it is. It is, however, the only thing I can think to do. I love you. That ‘love’ encompasses both the really close friends kind AND the romantically inclined kind. The lack of the second on your part will not affect the former on my part. I told you as much over Thanksgiving, but on the chance that it was couched in girl-speak, or misunderstood, or even, perhaps, unwelcome, I want to clarify. I acknowledge that any of these are a possibility- and if you’re not interested, hey, that’s OK. It happens. I also acknowledge that the obstacles are hardly minor. And I acknowledge that at this particular point in your life, even reading this may add to your burden of madness. If that’s so, I’m sorry. But I do have a favor to ask: until you do meet the Girl- the Real Deal- spare my heart for a little while, and don’t tell me about it. I’d love to be your girl. I like the beach when the fiery death ball is going down. You’re challenging, and brave and beautiful. I think you’re awfully excellent. Give me some time, censor these particular details- I will be quietly grateful, and I will move on. Not away from our friendship, which I value tremendously, but I’ll move past the twitterpation. But at this particular moment, in the full bore insanity and upheaval of the last two years, help me this way. (By doing this on paper that has been at the mercy of the US Postal Service, I’m giving you the option of pretending this never happened.) In any case, I want to watch you defend your thesis, bitch about grad school, be part of your support system, learn the rules of tennis, trade book recommendations, debate ALL the things and generally carry on as we have, save the above. I hope this doesn’t fuck things up.