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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My Regular Reads |
what thoughts Tuesday, Oct. 26, 2004 - 8:03 a.m. While going through my ancient entries, I encountered this one. The look from Henry on Saturday night was magical to me. It was different from any other look I've catalogued from him. I couldn't qualify how it was different without using adjectives that assume more than they should, such as "searching". I don't know that he was searching. I've seen so much from him. I've seen him cheered as a result of positive attention from me. I've seen him positively jump from excitement over my breasts. I've seen him look meekly overwhelmed by me as if I were majestical. I've seen him watch me eat a popsicle, and plant himself giddily before me when there was cleavage to be seen. I've seen him make excuses to take my picture. I've seen him peer at me in interest and confusion, when Evan asked why I took the job with Professional Theatre, or when he came into the rehearsal and saw me there. I've seen him peer right through me as he pictured me with fluorescent green hair without a trace of amusement. I've heard him compliment me, and I've heard him express some slight desire to work with me as a lighting designer. I've heard him comfort me when I'm anxious, and for that I've called him my guru. I've heard him speak to me with consideration. I've felt this sacred stillness when we are close. Looking together at pictures of someone's wedding, or last week when I giant-stepped into his personal space to make room for someone else to pass. I've also seen him back out just when it could get good. Refusing to get too close. So much, enough to have doubts, enough to really confuse me about all the other stuff I've experienced from him. Maybe it's because he's a habitual recluse with a tiny penis, scared to open that door for fear, or uncertain of the strength of his affection for me. Why should I feel so confident that what I've seen is proof of his attraction to me and long-term desire for me? Isn't this a trap?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Last Five - - Sunday, Feb. 12, 2006
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