Musings during Homework

As I sit here at my computer working on two term papers, I can't help but think of you. I have you stuck in my head, and I can't get you out. I have done everything I can think of. I made a playlist on iTunes with no love songs and listened to it for a while, but even in the midst of comedy songs I found things that reminded me of you. When that didn’t work, I put in a movie, but since I was facing my computer and not my TV, my mind wandered back to you. I talked to friends from high school in the hopes that reminiscing would keep my mind off of the present, but most of the conversations drifted towards relationship issues. So here I am, 6 hours till I have to make a presentation to a class and I am writing this about you instead of working on my papers.

Why is it that I can’t just tell you how I feel? I know you care for someone else, but why should that effect the way I feel? How can I have these feelings for you, and yet be afraid to look you in your eyes and tell you that you are one of the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful women that I have ever known? Why is it that I can not tell you that you are probably one of the most amazing people I will ever meet in my life and that every minute I spend with you makes me feel like one of the luckiest men in the world? Am I afraid that it will scare you away? Would you stop innocently joking with me about risqué things if you knew how I felt about you? Am I worried that it might keep that radiant smile from being shown in my presence?

I don’t know if I can bear the thought of that, but at the same time I don’t know if I can just keep these feelings inside. I am risking enough writing them here on my blog when I have a link to it in my AIM profile that you can check at any time. Part of me wants to climb to the top of the Halleck Center (I would find a way) and shout at the top of my lungs how I feel about you, but another part of me keeps whispering, “Don’t do it George. Don’t risk your friendship on it. Don’t give your heart to someone again when it could just get broken.”

And as that second part of me whispers those things, the hopeless romantic in me (I sound like someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder) tells me that the possibility of being with you is worth any injury to my psyche. It reminds me of the quote:

It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is most painful is to love someone and never finding the courage to let the person know how you feel.

Can I muster up that courage? Can I quell the little voice in the back of my head yelling at me to be reasonable and play it safe long enough to tell you, and if so when? Only time will tell . . . well, time to get back to my homework.