an unfinished journey

When things were good, ex-otter used to look at me in disbelief and ask, "where did you come from?" At first I didn't understand. Once upon a time he was so enamored with me. So in love. So unable to believe that not only had the universe managed to create me, it also saw fit to bring me to him.
It had been so long since I thought of him asking me that. He stopped after a while, probably when he ceased to view me as a gift. For some reason it came back to me at 2am as I stood on my steps. I did not cry. I felt that I should, I felt it would be right, but it seemed pointless. Something of Pants was rubbing off on me. Maybe something positive.

After seeing Pants tonight, I felt the need to watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Specifically the part where it's talking about "the high water mark." For some reason it really reminded me of him. I don't love him, but I frequently want him. I want to talk to him. I want to crack him open. I want him to feel something for me.

"Everything is always on your terms," I commented to him.
"I can't let you drive."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to go where you want to go."

There is the basis of our conflict. I told him that, as long as he keeps asking me to, I will continue coming to him when he calls me. "At least," I added, "until I find someone to date."
"Are you a monogamist?"
"No." I haven't been in the past, mostly. "Did you know I was married?" He sounded thoughtful when he replied in the affirmative. "We were together for four years and had a non-monogamous relationship that entire time." Not like that matters. It was a breach of trust that tore us apart-- on both sides. Would we have stayed together as long as we had if we'd been monogamous? Would we still be together if we'd been monogamous? There is no way to know the answer. At this point in time, eight years after it all started, there is no point in conjecture.
And honestly, that isn't even me anymore. What if I do need monogamy now? "It depends on the person and the relationship," I amended. And truly, it does.

I have a strange trust when it comes to Pants. I trust his memory. I trust him to not hurt me intentionally. I trust him to not do what he does not want to do. I don't trust that I'll hear from him again. Each interaction could be our last. I don't trust his reactions to comments or observations that I make. I don't trust him not to mock me. In some ways he is very respectful. I can not yet describe how he is not; only that I feel he isn't.
"You aren't enlightened. You're detached." He generally stays quiet when I say these things.
I want to crawl into his brain and sleep among the folds. I want to feel the buzz of thoughts envelope me. I want to find the feelings and release them. Is he the giant whose heart has been replaced by a wasp's nest? Where does his real heart live? How can life be worth living when you feel nothing?
"I like fucking you because it's the only time you're present. Other times, like now, you're just distant." And, like always, no response. When there is, each word is carefully picked. Even his tone is robotic. Yet, I hear more than what he says. This is common for anyone that I've spent intimate time with. Anyone that has shared anything with me.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to love him. Unrequited, unacknowledged. Unappreciated. When was the last time he felt something for someone? When was the last time he desired beyond the physical?

I will not be the one to lead him from his coldness. I'm not convinced that anyone will. I have no idea what his life is when we are not together. Never before 11pm, only once through the night. It was easier when I did not want him.
But it's better now that I do.

I hope this does not keep me from something real.