It's Complicated

"It's just a matter of semantics, Tristan…", my friend explained.  

"Call it any which way you want, you know that you are dating…", she continued.

I was silent. Was she right?

"No, we're just seeing each other… we're just neighbors.", I tried to defend myself. 

"Oh come on, you and I know that you consider him more than that…", she argued.

I shook my head and attempted to defend myself. For a brief moment, I felt stupid. I was lost for words. The truth was, she was right and I was just too damn scared to admit it. I have somehow allowed myself to see someone for more than what he actually was - a neighbor, some guy I would hook up every now and then. The romantic notion of having someone for extended periods of time thrilled me. I have gotten so tired of casual encounters - the ones, where often, I barely get to the point of getting the guy's first name let alone their last. Maybe it comes with age - and with age, a change of perspective, of priorities.

I looked at my phone again for the nth time. Still no message from the one person whose message I have been waiting for. A "what up?" would have brightened my day. A simple "home" would have completed the week. I then thought about what my friend asked me earlier: "are you gonna be alright knowing that there's a possibility that this may not turn out the way you want it to?"One deep breath and I was back to where I started - in a state of flux, checking my phone - still no message. I regretted sending the last message. I should have just not said hi.

"Maybe I've been expecting too much out of this guy", I tried to convince myself to ease the disappointment. But, really, what was wrong with that? How is expecting too much different from hoping for the best? Is hope a bad thing? I wondered how much more thinking I needed to do before I figured out what was happening. "Just go ask him and tell him how you feel.", I could hear my friends in my head. But, just the thought of even having that conversation terrified me. I have allowed myself to like someone - I have yet to figure out if I have already become strong enough to fall.

As the cab pulled over by my apartment building, the conversations I have had with friends as to the state of my affairs continued to haunt me. I have been overanalyzing things. Again. It's so like me to over think things. But, hey, a guy could only change so much. I opened the door to my apartment and found the place as empty as I had left it earlier in the day. I checked my reflection on the mirror from across the room. I have had a long day. I looked tired. I faked a smile. And, with all the charm I had left in me, tried to appease my sad reflection: "he's a fool to have not missed you…"

I just wished he knew that too.