I don't know if I mentioned this, but a few weeks ago I decided that I was done talking to him, because all it brought me was bad feelings and clogged sinuses, and that if he wanted to talk to me he could, but I wouldn't initiate anything.
And he didn't say anything. I started to think he wouldn't ever again, and that maybe it would be better that way. Every time I thought of something he'd like, or find funny, or ironic, I sat on it, and told someone else, or even just myself out-loud to avoid coming to this computer, signing on AIM and telling him.
So today, after some of the worst dreams I've ever had, amid a thunderstorm I swear was localized over my house, I awoke to find a message from him about the last six feet under (which was one of those things I loved, knew he would love, and spent days telling everyone else about to avoid reaching out to him).
I tried to avoid it...but I couldn't. I am weak, and I did love him. Besides, I can't turn up the chance to over-analyze the tidbits of information I could recieve through actual live contact, instead of just monitoring his profile/away message periodically through out the day (I never said I was over it yet, just that I know I'm better off without him...its a process)
Anyway, I jumped in and actually responded, and he didnt say anything back for over half an hour, which in a way was a better solution. It was easier to imagine him reaching out in a moment of his weakness and then reconsidering. But finally he did message me back, and told me that he cried when Keith died. Thats an interesting admission. I wonder if he told me because we shared a bond for so long, because he couldn't tell anyone else, or because he's a man and sometimes they just *do* things that seem awfully significant but instead just represent a random synapse that went off in their heads.
I wasn't able to probe further though, he was typically himself and moments after he send that one, he told me he had to run, he was late for his band practice. Some things just don't change.
