And slowly, we all fade.

I've realized that profound and enlightening moments often come in the weirdest places, at the strangest times.

In response to something that I'd said, someone said,
"Damn Jenn, just because you're emotionally detached doesn't mean the rest of us don't have feelings!"

Well shit.

I know that they were joking and were just saying that in passing, but I kind of just sat there stunned for a minute.
And pretty much...
That puts the last year and a half or so of my life into perspective.

When DID I become so emotionally detached?
So emotionally detached, that having two non-relationships at one time doesn't bother my conscience at all?
When did it become okay for me to be with someone, without actually being in love with them?
When did I become so callous and unfeeling?

When did passion become a front for strength?

I think I try so hard to be strong, and be independent that I forget that it's okay to be weak sometimes.
I trick myself into thinking that I can take care of myself, and that my heart is grid-iron strong.
That nothing can melt the icy fortress and that I'm incapable of falling in love again.

Lately, falling asleep next to him has gotten really hard again.
I don't know why but I think it's because I've realized that it needs to end.
I know how unhealthy this is for me.
I'm NOT an ice-princess.
I write about love, and relationships and romance all the time.
So how can I possibly have tricked myself into thinking that my heart was an icy fortress?

In the beginning, I always went to him because I wanted the reassurance that I could leave at anytime if I chose to.
I thought that if I went to him, I would never have to deal with the experience of waking up and not finding him there.

I wanted that for me.

I wanted to make sure that if anyone was going to be doing any leaving, that it would be me.
That one day, when I finally decided that I was done, I'd wake up, and walk out of his life while he was still in bed sleeping.

Fatalism much?

A year has passed and I still haven't left.
And it's not like I don't have the chance to go.
I do.
Every single time I go over there, I can get up and leave.
I can decide to end it forever and just go.
So why haven't I?

It wasn't supposed to last this long, or even get to this point.
It should have been a quick affair; an infatuation; something forgettable.
But now, I feel like after a year it's turned into its own monster.

If I was going to leave... I would have already left.

So what now?
Do I keep pretending that I don't feel anything for him?
Because even though I keep telling myself, and everyone around me that I don't like him, and that I don't feel for him, but I know that at the end of the day, I wait around for his text, his IM...

I wait for him.

And that, more than anything, tells me everything that I don't want to say.

At the end of the day, I wish he was close enough to me so that I could go home to him and crawl into his arms.
No words, no explanations.
And contrary to popular belief, I don't need a title to be happy.
I just need to know that I'm that girl in his life.
The one girl that he wants, right now.
That's all I ever really want from a guy.
Not promises of eternal love or unrealistic grand gestures.
I just need for someone to always welcome me into their arms at the end of the day.
That's the only thing that matters.

I don't think that's a lot to ask for, but I can't even bring myself to ask him for that.
Because I think a part of me is so positive that he'll say that he's not ready, that he cannot possibly give me that.
So I keep on pretending.
Pretending that I'm strong.
And detached.

I keep on pretending that being with him isn't destroying every single thing I know about myself.