Yesterday, Valentine's Day, I still didn't have any information as to Zelda's availability; Around 2:00, I went to Lincoln anyway. You know. Just in case.
So I spent the first several hours trying to locate her apartment (I had an address, but not directions, and her particular location is not intuitively locatable) and waiting (as she wasn't there). After a few tries (back and forth from her apartment and Andy and Bob's, who Mom insisted I sound out as potential places to spend the night if the weather became as bad as it had been threatening), I ended up waiting in her parking lot. Finally I reached her around 4:45, and she only cracked her door to talk to me; she was cleaning her apartment and didn't want me to see the mess. I wished her a happy Valentine's Day and gave her the hot sauce. I asked what she was up to, and what plans she had for the day. She was (as mentioned) cleaning her apartment, and was going to a party with some friends later that evening. She didn't invite me in, and she didn't seem to be coming out. Shaft. Drive all the way to Lincoln (it's only an hour's drive, but with the recent revelation of my vehicle's gas mileage, and my financial situation, I was very strongly considering not going - or, rather, my intentions to go were weakening), spend all that time looking - and waiting - and this is what I was getting. Twenty seconds of completely superficial interaction. Well, ok. Might as well finish what I came for. I told her to wait; I'd be right back. I went to the car and got the roses (I didn't have them with me in the initial call because I wasn't sure if she'd be home, and besides wasn't sure how to hold them in a way that wasn't immediately apparent - particularly if I was to deliver the bottle of hot sauce beforehand), and brought them to her. She said "Oh," in a "How sweet" sort of way, and invited me in then.
In an interesting side note, had the day stopped there, I think I would have been crushed enough to probably stop trying. Thoroughly convinced of the pointlessness of spending (completely unrecompensed) time on her. Well, it would have killed me for a month or so, anyway, until I remembered other times that argue against that... no, maybe not. I don't know. But it would have really crushed me. And that's a great word. Crushed. Like someone pressed my heart until, like a giant aluminum can, it warped and cracked and collapsed on itself.
But the day didn't end there.
We talked for a while, brief little spurts of small talk. I really didn't know what to talk about. We ended up talking about her internship plans, and her intentions to join the Peace Corps after graduation. These things that I've known about, and despaired a little after, as they mean her extended absence. I want to be happy and excited for her, but I can't help but think of how much time that means she'll be away. Given the rate at which our relationship has developed so far, something like that... I don't know. As I've said before (in an e-mail), "I'm afraid that you'll be strolling through life, and one day you'll meet someone, and consider what life would be like with him, and realize that you're ready for that. And that I will be... for lack of a better word, forgotten." And later, "That's a long time to not be able to see you -- to be getting to know you. And it's a long time in other ways, too -- what if what I am so afraid of happens in Australia?"
She expected her friends to call her to the Valentine's Day party somewhat late in the evening. In the meantime, she was willing to spend time with me. We purposed to go to see Daredevil, which was opening that night, though I sort of suspected it would be sold out. It was. We went to TCBY instead. We were talking, now, quite a bit - and I'm very happy for it. I love her company; I know far too few females who think and converse as appealingly intelligently as she can. She even tried to point out a "fault" or two in herself - to get me to not like her as much, she said. I suspect (hope?) that she was doing so to test whether I would still treat her the same way - which of course I did; as I've said before, it would take a pretty big negative to even begin to diminish her value in my eyes. If anything, it endears her more to me, because every aspect of her I can know better is one bit more of her I can see in my mind. I'm (slowly) getting to know her, and every time I see more of her she becomes more beautiful - even when the new piece I see isn't particularly attractive, it is part of a bigger whole that only increases in beauty the better I understand it.
After TCBY, we drove back to her apartment and sat in her car (I don't know if this is because neither of us wanted to interrupt our conversation with the movement required to leave the car, or if it is because she wanted to keep me out off her horrible messy unpresentable apartment), and continued to talk. We talked for another two hours or so, there, from 8:00 to 10:00. Those two hours were beautiful; I was with Zelda (who is enough to make a moment beautiful), it was raining (or, later, sleeting) and the sound on the roof of the car was wonderful to listen to (when there was a break in the conversation, sometimes interrupted just for that purpose). And we were talking. Not small talk. We talked about *things*. Zelda is much more up to date on current events, and has (what appear to me to be) intelligent views; in any case, her philosophical constructions follow my own (which I do not develop for lack of information - on account of an admittedly irresponsible apathy). She informed me. I still don't consider myself "up to date", but our conversation was, in that respect alone, positive for me.
And we talked about her. I now understand much better why she "isn't interested in a relationship right now" (among other things, it's because she doesn't want to be tied anyplace while she has intentions of her world travels - that's something I'd known already, but I understand it more intimately now), and I know some more about her hopes and fears - her heart, one might say. And I have something horrible to confess.
I love her.
Even more than the realization that occurred the other night (via IM, posted an entry or so ago), I believe now that I love her.
And now I want her to go on those trips.
But I don't. I want her to go, but I don't want her to go away.
If there were some way for me to go with her, I would. That would be so wonderful, I dare not even imagine it. To be with her, to watch her as she grows through the experiences (and grow along with her)... to help her, and to be helped by her, in that growth...
I'm sorry; I had to stop typing for a bit.
If I could, I would develop a relationship with her this spring, and use myself to give her strength to go - to support her, not serve as a tether holding her back. In fact, as I listened to her talking about it, I wanted nothing more.
But I am unemployed. And when I do finally have income, I have too many expenses facing me. How often will I get to Lincoln? How often will I see her, or talk to her, or anything? And, if/when I did, how am I going to feel when she leaves?
After this semester, she will be gone for (roughly) three years. And despite my desires, *I* am afraid of that time. I don't want her to leave. I want her to do these things, but I don't want to be without her while she does them. Three years. I'm not as afraid of her "finding love" while she's away as I was before - I don't know if it's because I know her and her interests better, and think it less likely to happen, or if it's because I, at least, know that I love her and know that that, at least, cannot be taken away from me - but it isn't as much of a worry. But her sheer absence is a worry to me. When she goes, she will not be here. I will not be able to see her - at all. Instead of the 0.05% chance I generally have, I will have 0%. None. She will simply be gone.
It's a different kind of heartpull, I suppose. Before I was pained because I didn't know what to make of my situation: I wanted it to be a certain way, but I didn't know why I did - let alone how to achieve my desires. Now I know myself, and, in an improved but by no means full capacity, I know her. And I know what I want. And I know that I cannot have it. (Not for several years, anyway - and part of what I want is that I want it now - or, barring that unpractical immediacy, as soon as possible.)
I'd said, before, that I wanted to love her; that if I knew how I felt, and was sure of it, that things wouldn't be as bad. And because love - real love - isn't selfish, I wouldn't feel so badly that I didn't have her. Because I would love her, and want everything to be the best for her, and I'd recognize that if I wasn't that "best", that I would be content with my situation.
It's true, in a way. But just because I love her doesn't mean I don't also want her. I'm not convinced that I'm "bad" for her, but neither am I certain that (right now) I'm good for her. I know, at least, that she does not want (or thinks she does not want) such a relationship. So be default, unless I *know* that I know that I would be good for her, I will be harmful.
Love is patient,
But I am not. Three years... I don't want to wait that long. I will, if I have to. But I don't want to.
love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude,
I seem to be doing all right, here.
it is not self-seeking,
In my impatience I pay more attention to my desires than to her needs. Again, I must work on this.
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts,
God, help me. I think I love her. I'm imperfect, and as such so is my love, but this... I'm not sure how to deal with it.
always hopes,
Yes. Yes. After three years. I can hope for three years.
always perseveres.
Yes...
Love never fails.
Oh, God.