eyes

10:05 PM 6/18/10

I've had voices telling me that he can't see very many of my blog posts - that he can only see a few, because the hackers are hiding the other ones from him, the ones where I talk about how I feel about him. It's theoretically possible - one of those things that I can't prove. It's one reason why I distrust everything on the net - somebody could selectively hide things, and the internet could look different from server to server.

For the past few days, I've been going to work on day shift at Weis, sometimes working in the mornings, and sometimes working in the evenings but starting at an earlier hour. I've also left night shift at McD, so I'm sometimes mornings, sometimes evenings there too. It's much more cheerful when the place is full of people and I'm not closing and cleaning the same things every night. So I think I will enjoy both jobs more.

And I get to see Curtis for a few hours, more often. When I was going in at 4:00, he often left at 2:30 or 3:30, and so I wouldn't see him at all. Now I might see him for an hour, or several hours. This helps me enjoy my job.

But today I had a gift for him, and the gift is still in my pocket. I saw him and I felt like I was being rejected for real. I felt doubtful and uncertain. Then I saw him texting, and when he's texting, I assume he's talking to his semi-ex-girlfriend. That made me feel, right away, that I wasn't needed.

I still don't know how many of our communication problems are caused by hacker interference, versus something that he himself is doing, or not doing. After all, he never answered the questions I asked him when I gave him a note on paper. I think he doesn't want to write back and make mistakes, and misspell words, and maybe misread or misunderstand the questions I was asking. I don't know if he really has a reading disability or not, and I haven't had any long conversations with him recently where I would be able to ask about it.

But I remember one incident that happened. One time, Dee left him a 'map', a diagram, showing the places where he was supposed to move things to. He was supposed to move the displays around, and he was left there by himself in the evening, and he had to figure this out, and he was new. He was anxious, and he asked me for my thoughts about it.

I looked at the diagram and I didn't really understand it either, but I had a feeling that if I kept looking, and kept trying, I would eventually understand it. She had written in really small handwriting some unreadable words in tiny little boxes. He might have bad eyesight too, because he has glasses, and sometimes glasses don't completely correct your vision, so it might have been hard to see the tiny words that were messy and unfamiliar. And he might have a reading disability.

Whatever the reason, he pointed at one box, and I could read it, but he couldn't. I thought I knew what it meant, but he didn't really understand. After we both tried looking at this diagram, he suddenly gave up and abandoned it, and decided to wait till later, because someone else was going to come in, and that person would help him.  I remember that he ended up asking Dee, and she explained it to him. It did seem like a lot to leave for a new guy to do by himself, when he had never done it before. But I felt as though he didn't even really try very hard to read the diagram - it seemed like he gave up quickly, after only glancing at it.

Now that made me remember another incident. It was during the time when I started touching him, when I had touched him once or twice, I think twice, just a tap on the arm, that kind of thing. There was a display that had to be assembled. It was for a box of apples. He was trying to do it by himself, and he came over and asked me if I could help.

So I started trying to read the instructions. I am one of those people who loves to read the instructions, loves to have the entire instruction manual, loves to do everything exactly by the book - and then somebody else comes along, doesn't read ANYTHING, and just puts it together quickly, maybe with a mistake or two, but it gets done. This was one of those times. I struggled to understand the instructions, and then I had to leave, because something was going on - I had to help a customer or something.

I came back and the apple display was already assembled! He was standing next to it. I said, 'Yes!' and I looked all over it to see how it was put together.

Then a strange thing happened, and it's hard to explain. I 'interpreted' his body language, so my interpretation might be wrong.

I didn't touch him. I kept away. I restrained myself. I had touched him several times, and I enjoyed it a lot. I enjoyed it too much. It was very exciting each time I had done it. So I got scared and started to think I shouldn't do this anymore, because it was sexual harassment. Every time I touched him, I wanted to touch him more and more. I wanted to hold him in my arms and stroke and pet every part of his body, and kiss him, and not let go. So I kept away.

I didn't go near him. But then he looked at me, with a hurt, shocked look on his face, and he stepped back away from me, as though I had reached out to hit him or hurt him. I didn't move, I didn't get near him, but he acted like I physically attacked him. It was an emotional hurt, but he acted like it was a physical attack. He actually took a step back from me, so I couldn't reach him.

My brother once told me, long ago, that in a relationship, if somebody hurt him or disappointed him, he would 'take a step back' from that person, put some distance between himself and that person, and lower his expectations so that he wouldn't be hurt again.

I felt guilty for not touching him. It seemed like I should just give him a casual pat. Anybody else could have done it. People pat each other on the back all the time, because it's easy and meaningless. But for me, it was intensely exciting, and I could not do it in a casual, relaxed way. So now, it felt like he distrusted me, because I had hurt him. I didn't do something I should have done.

I couldn't do it. Every touch wanted to lead to more and more touch.

But I thought of that incident because maybe he wasn't able to read the instructions very well. Maybe he could read them but had trouble understanding them.

Today, when I saw him, I remembered the last conversation we had. The last time I talked to him, he was with Dave, and getting ready to leave. I interrupted their conversation, asked him if he was leaving - I was rude and intrusive and disrespectful. I was harsh, commanding, demanding. I already felt rejected, so I had to boss him around and force him to answer me. He reluctantly told me he was leaving, but he didn't look at me much. I said, 'I want to tell you what happened...' (that is, what happened when I got a strange email from him on MySpace.)  He still wasn't looking at me. I got even more humiliated and rejected. 'It will take like, two minutes...' (I promise, I won't waste your time.) And then, he walked back into the office with Dave, while I stood there for a few seconds watching. I didn't know how long he'd be there. I felt like he didn't want to talk to me. So I left. I took the chickens back to the cooler. When I came back out, I saw him and Dave walking, far away, leaving. And then there was that cold, sad feeling, the way it feels when he is gone but I have to stay.

I didn't talk to him today. I saw him a couple times. I still had the hurt feeling. It got worse when I saw him texting somebody. (Why can't he text ME? I tried so many times! I sent him so many messages. I can't be sure if it's the hackers, or if he just isn't answering.)

Then he came walking out, next to a co-worker, talking. They were walking in front of me. I couldn't look at him. I looked away, I lifted my chin and turned away from him. I never looked at him. A few minutes later, he went walking back with the co-worker (some guy whose name I don't know) and he looked anxious. I can't describe how I read his body, but when I look at him, I see 'anxious.' It's everything in the way he moves. I still didn't look in his eyes.

I started to feel bad. What if he left? I didn't know what time he would go home. What if he left, and I missed a day, without looking in his eyes at all? That would be a wasted day. It would feel even worse if he went home and I never looked at him that day, and then he was gone.

I was working on something, making some sandwiches. Usually, I looked at him if his back was turned. I could look at him if he wasn't looking at me. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and I looked at him. He looked straight back at me, into my eyes.

It set off a cascade of feelings that lasted for several minutes. It sent a zing of pleasure into my lower belly, and I started breathing heavily, and I felt my breasts pressing against my apron with every breath. I couldn't finish working on the sandwiches. I wanted to pace around restlessly, but I stayed in one place.

I felt totally hopeless, foolish, and ridiculous - there was no way I could ever, ever, ever give him the gift I was carrying in my pocket. I needed him. He looked at me, and I needed it, like I need food and water. I felt that I couldn't live without him. And the idea of giving him a gift seemed crazy, stupid, and foolish. I couldn't do it. It was an insult, it was an unworthy gift, it was pathetic.

(And a while later, the voices said, 'I'll get a new best friend.' And they also said, 'She doesn't DESIRE me, she just LOVES me.')

But I was glad I looked in his eyes. It released a feeling. I had to do it.

When it was time for me to leave, I went home and I didn't say goodbye to him. I didn't go looking for him. I left. I know how it feels, when they leave and everything is dull afterwards, and the light goes out of everything - still, I left.

And the voices tell me that he can't see my blogs, that he can't read it, that he can't find it on the net, that when he goes looking for it, the page has disappeared. He doesn't know how I feel. And then I wonder how much of this is my imagination. How much of this is a fantasy that I've created, in my own mind, when actually, he looks into other people's eyes, and calls them nicknames, and shows his feelings to them, and does all of these things that seem so wonderful and special, with everybody.

I hope to see him again tomorrow. I hope to see him again frequently, and routinely, so that I trust that he will always be there, day after day, all the time.

I was supposed to do something today, and I didn't do it. Feelings, and actions, are two different things. I felt a lot of strong feelings, and I had fantasies, but I didn't DO anything. I was supposed to give him the note with the gift, the insulting and unworthy gift, to show that I'm serious and I mean what I say. I want to show a bond, a real-world bond, that will last a long time, if we talk about it and decide to do it. I couldn't do it - I failed. Maybe I will try again.