Confusion really doesn't even begin to cover it. How I was feeling, that is.
I really, really didn't want Keith to go, but I couldn't imagine any way to get him to stay. He was uncomfortable, I was uncomfortable; I thought I was giving him an easy out, but instead I felt like a giant asshole. I'll be honest with myself, though, and admit that Keith's reaction hurt. First, him coming out dressed. We had always had lazy mornings. He would wear my robe, and we'd eat together, and we'd talk. He marched out with his shirt tucked in – like maybe he was ashamed of what we were doing? I couldn't really figure it out.
Really, I thought there was something between us. Relationship-like, not just fuck buddy. I know I didn't handle Eric well, but I couldn't stand the thought of telling Eric it was something if it turned out to be nothing. It was stupid, really, but I felt like Keith and I should have a conversation about what we were doing before Eric and I had that conversation. Yeah, real stupid. Thanks, Eric.
I also realize that I'm projecting my anger at myself onto Eric. Yeah, I should have talked to Keith, but I expected to have more time.
But did I want something with Keith? Funny, I had never really consciously wanted a romantic relationship with him, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. My thoughts ran in circles all day, but I didn't call him, and he didn't call me. Kyle called to wish me a merry Christmas and to say that Eric didn't speak for the both of them. He supports whatever Keith and I decide, and he's not judging us. It was actually pretty nice, but it also made me suspect that perhaps he and Eric had argued about it when Eric got home.
The next day I had a nice dinner with my parents, and my brother and sister and their families. I had a nice time, and when my sister, Jenna, asked if I was dating anybody, I gave her a glossy, family-friendly version about Keith. Really, I thought I was being honest, but Jenna disagreed.
"Cut the shit."
Her exact words. I love my sister, but she's no-nonsense, and has been known to talk like a trucker. Or a sailor.
"No, seriously, cut the shit. You're not confused; you're just being a little pussy."
Did I say no-nonsense? I meant bitch.
"Go get him! Honestly, I don't know what you're waiting for. And really, you had no idea? He's had a hard-on for you since you were, like, 22. Of course he wants more than a screw!"
"Your kids hear you talk like this?" I asked innocently. She had a five and an eight year old, girl and boy, plus another on the way. She just glared and sighed in a very exasperated way.
"She busting on you again?" her husband, Roger, asked, coming over to rub her shoulders.
"Hey! Who says it's me doing the busting?" she asked, turning to look at him. Instead of shrinking under Jenna's glare, he raised his eyebrows and gave her a lopsided smile.
"Because it's always you, honey," he said as he leaned down to kiss her brow. She smiled.
I was watching my nieces and nephews – I had two of each – play with their gifts when I realized Jenna was right. I was being a chicken-shit. I should just go see Keith and tell him how I felt. If I had messed up our friendship, well, I'd just have a deal with that, but if he wanted more, well... I wanted more. It was weird to admit it, but I really did. I wasn't going to tell him to move in, but waking up next to him... it was nice. And it wasn't nice because I was waking up next to someone again, something I had been used to doing with Mark, but it was nice because I was waking up next to Keith. I *liked* waking up next to Keith. And talking to him... I loved talking to Keith, and I always had. We could talk for hours, or we could just hang out. It didn't matter. We meshed.
After I got home from my parents house, I called Keith. No answer. I wondered if he was just avoiding my call or if he really wasn't home. His family did stuff earlier than mine did, though, so unless he went somewhere else he should probably be home. I kicked myself for not just going over to his place to talk to him. Really, I don't know what my rush was – we both had over a week off from school, and there would be other opportunities to talk. Still, I called again and left another message. A long message. It was descriptive. Not quite sure what I was thinking – maybe it was because I wasn't thinking. I just couldn't wait to tell him what I thought, that I didn't want this to just be casual sex. That I wanted to *date*. Or something. Whatever, I'm not good with words. That's Keith's department.
I sat on my couch and stared at the little tree Keith had helped me pick out almost three weeks previous. We had gone to a farm and cut it down, something I had never done with Mark because he was allergic to them. My family had sometimes had a real tree, but Keith's were die-hard cut-it-down-yourself type of people. So, Keith helped me out.
