My heart breaks a little each and every time I see him.

Gosh, that sounds so gay.

Let's face it. I'm not cut out for this use and abuse, don't ask don't tell, let's act like a couple one day and like we don't know each other the next, bullshit. And the truth is, I care about him. Well, actually, I don't know if it's that deep for me to say that I care about him so perhaps I am curious and fascinated by him is more appropriate.

Nah, I care about him too. Fuck this big retarded beating heart of mine.

I don't know why I hate to admit it. I have been seeing him one and off for about a year, after all. However, the relationship hasn't deepened even in the slightest, or not to my liking. I still hardly know what he does on the weekends, the company he keeps, let alone his political affiliation or hell, his favorite color. Or wait, maybe I do know. It's blue, the color he painted his bedroom walls. A lovely cerulean shade of blue.

Why have I stuck around for so long despite the shallow progression of our relationship?

Is it because he loves art and design? Because his fascinating tales of his travels? Because for the few thoughtful conversations we've held, I've seen glimpses of his brilliance? Because he's someone who can inspire me? Because I see such great potential?

Because together, we play a convincing game of house? Because even if it's only pretend, it feels real in that moment and time spent with him?

Or is it because he's so elusive and I always want what I can't have? Because I like a good challenge?

But when is it that I'll realize that this a challenge that cannot be won? That I can never have him the way I need him.

And each time he drops me off at my house or at work the next morning, I feel more unfulfilled and empty inside.

And foolishly needing more to be with him.

=========================

me: i only learned how to play sudoku last week
i'm so late
dude: its like crack. good for the metro
me: yeah dude
much better than crossword puzzles
dude: f crossword puzzles
i hate those things
me: when i was younger, my grandmother used to read the star tabloid mag and i'd steal them from her just so i could do the crossword puzzles
and all the answers were based on the content of that issue
so i'd actually read the entire thing
so i was well versed in hollywood gossip at 8
dude: ha thats almost as good as tolstoy
me: better than tolstoy. who wouldnt want to know about the latest scandal regarding pat sajak