Enough
It's been seventeen days since I left Hawaii, and I haven't heard anything from Evan. I assume he's okay; if he wasn't, Andy would know and he would tell me. Which means he's alive and well...just avoiding me. Which bothers me nearly as much as the thought of him being hurt.
I brought this on myself, I know that. I was insecure, paranoid and jealous, and I hated myself through all of it, but I just couldn't help it. I looked at Evan, how amazing he was, and how completely unremarkable I am...and it didn't make sense. How could he be with me, when he could've had anyone he wanted?
He didn't want them then. But now he does, and I'm the one who pushed him to that. Now I get it. I understand now that Evan knew as well as I did that he could've had anyone he wanted...but he'd chosen to be with me. Even though he could've had Andrew, who he'd wanted a long, long time before he knew me. He gave me a chance, and I fucked it up.
It's typical, this figuring things out after I've already done the damage. I figured out too late that I wanted Andy, and with him, I got no second chance. Hopefully with Evan, now that I get how lucky I am, I can get the opportunity to show him that I appreciate him. That having him--no matter what we call it, no matter how long it lasts--is better than this. Better than being apart.
Although, considering I haven't heard from him in over two weeks, maybe he disagrees. Maybe he likes being away from me. Maybe he changed his mind about us... No. I'm doing it again. Evan is going to come back. I know he has feelings for me. He has to, otherwise he wouldn't have wasted the last few months with me. Considering that our first night together, he told me he doesn't do feelings...its pretty amazing we came this far.
So now I just have to wait. I'm lonely without him, sure. I hate lying in bed alone after getting used to sharing it with him. But every night is a little bit easier. Every night I move closer to the middle of the mattress; every night I fall asleep a little sooner. I still check my answering machine as soon as I walk in the door, but now it's not quite as upsetting to see the only messages waiting for me are from relatives or teammates. Now I'm getting out again. My first night home was spent on the couch, drowning myself in tears and Bud Light, all by myself. But I've gone out the last few nights. Dinner with Ryan. The movies with Andy and Sebastien. A club with Toby. None of them have come home with me, and I haven't gone with any of them. I haven't slept with anyone since Kirk.
Kirk.
I still don't know what to think about that. Knowing that I went to him for comfort, after he...took advantage of Evan...it makes my skin crawl. I can't believe I let him touch me, taste me. I can't believe I let myself do the same to him. But I didn't know; I had no way of knowing what he'd done to Evan. No that it silences my conscience, but it is a small consolation. If nothing else, the time alone has helped me to deal with that shock.
All that's left now is the waiting. I know now that if...no, when Evan comes back, I have to prove to him that I'm different. That I'm not afraid of losing him. If...WHEN he comes back, its because he cares about me, because he's chosen me. Even if it's only for a month, a week, a day...no matter how long it lasts...he wants me. Maybe even needs me.
And now that I get it, that's enough. The here and now, starting as soon as he comes back to me, is all I need.
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