It's about to start raining and I'm at work alone, listening to the Walk the Line soundtrack, and thinking about you. Like I always seem to be lately. How long can you have a crush on someone before it becomes absolutely pathetic? Because I think, I think, I just might be there. Or how long before it goes away? I stopped denying it months ago, so I'm pretty sure that's a step in the right direction.
For a long time, I was afraid to tell anyone, like I'm afraid to tell anyone almost anything personal. I wouldn't talk about it, I'd deny it if it was ever brought up, and I certainly wouldn't write about it. This post has been sitting in draft mode all day as I wonder whether to publish it or just delete it entirely. I don't know what I'm always so afraid of. Not talking about something won't make it go away, but I sure try my hardest.
Don't expect me to do anything drastic. I don't do that (see previous post) but I do think about it. What I'd say and when I'd say it. Then I get depressed because, once again, I'm living more inside my head than in my real life. I've said that before, I think. It seems like lately all I write about is my inability to take action on anything.
On Saturday, we were trying to decide what game to play and, still tired from the night before, I suggested we play the game where we all sit still and don't move. "I think that's called paralysis," Nick said, obviously proud of himself. As he should be. It was funny. I laughed. Hell, it made me giggle just thinking about it now. Until I realized that I spend most of my life playing that game and then it wasn't quite so funny.