Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > Insindiary > Insindiary's Diary |
Those words
|
Those words I had never seen Jasmine's house before. It was simple and functional, and had a nice, woodsy, secluded feeling for being so close to a metro area. She had described her house and her room and her<b> roommates </font></b>to me many times, and the picture I had in my head pretty much fit with what I saw there. Still, I like to see things like that for myself. I feel like I can learn a lot about a person from being in their room. And I think that was the point, or part of the point in taking a special trip to Georgia to see Jasmine. I wanted to understand her better - to see her house, to meet her roommates, to watch her do the sorts of things she would do in her daily routine. We understand each other so well already sometimes that it's almost eerie. Hanging out with her in her home for a few days offered me no surprises. "Do you think it's hard for people to be friends with me?" she asked me as I was getting ready to leave this morning. She wasn't talking about me. She was surfing on line and reading email from another friend of hers. "Why do you ask?" I said. "It seems like most of my guy friends kind of want to get romantic after a while. It's like they don't just want to be friends. They want more." Now this was interesting to me because I had been thinking about it while I was there. Was I one of those "guy friends"? I knew I was close to her, but I also knew Jasmine could easily be intimate with a man without getting attached to him. After eight months of knowing her, I felt like I was starting to get more attached to her. "The normal human predisposition is to form a bond with other humans," I told her in the most pompous biology-professor voice I could muster. "As humans, it's normal for us to seek romantic bonds after a while with our hot friends. I continued, "Fortunately, in your case, you're not human. Also, you're not capable of forming a romantic bond." This is pretty normal, jackass talk for us, and Jasmine didn't blink. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully, "I have a romantic relationship with you." That statement came as a bit of a pleasant surprise for me. I've never been sure just exactly what type of bond we have, romantic or otherwise. It's not like we spend a lot of time acting romantic. But I wanted it to be, and I was happy to hear her say that. "I'm going to miss you," she told me later, and play-acted being a pouting . "There there," I said mockingly, but hugging her nonetheless, "I'm going to miss you too. Give me a hug." Then, taking a bit of a risk, I said in a parental, instructional tone, "Now, tell me you love me." "I love you," she said. I smiled and said, "I love you too." It felt like a tiny triumph. The words were said half in jest, but they were said. I do love Jasmine, but I've always been just a bit guarded about saying it to her. I've only known her less than a year, and I've only spent time with her for a few cumulative weeks. Most of our conversations are very funny, but very banal discussions on nothing in particular. We're intimate with each other, but we're intimate with many other people as well. Finally, the last thing I want to do with Jasmine is scare her away by getting too close to her. But I didn't, and saying that to each other seemed like a normal thing that fit well into the sorts of things we say to each other. I wanted to tell Jasmine I loved her. It seems appropriate now, and it's true. I tell my friends that I love them if I can - male or female, sexual bond or not. It seems like a shame to me that people go through their lives sometimes without telling others that they are special to them. It is simply that to me. It won't change my relationship with Jasmine, other that I will be more comfortable saying those words to her in the future. |
Become a member to create a blog
