Page 52 of Ambiguous
But.
It’s good that I now know this can’t go anywhere. That way I won’t get my hopes up.
Too late, a small voice inside my head says.
I pout.
After sitting for a moment, I decide it’s time to emulate Duke Ellington and take the energy it takes to pout and write some blues.
Switching to my notes app and pacing around my bedroom, I write fragments of a song about wanting someone and being let down by them.
Which brings up my deepest fear: that of never getting what I want. Sometimes I don’t even try because I’m scared I’ll be disappointed.
Crikey. Even when he’s making me sad, Sam Stone is my muse.
When I run out of steam, I close the app and glance again at some of the online pictures of him.
Sodding hell. Looking at him with another man makes my heart hurt.
Still, while his smile is bright, something about it strikes me as odd. It’s like he’s posing, wishing he were elsewhere.
There I go, reading what I want to see into things.
I rub the back of my neck. That’s just like me—and one of the reasons why I haven’t dated recently. Because I don’t seem to be able to interpret people’s intentions. I don’t know if they want me for me or if they want me because I’mJulian Hill.
I’d thought Sam was different. And maybe he is, but it still doesn’t mean he wants me like that. He just got carried away in the moment.
But I can’t deny that spending time with him has made me the most productive I’ve been in years. Even if I can’t have him, I want to see him.
I pull out my phone.
Jules: Do you want to go to lunch? I’m convinced you’re my lucky charm for writing music
In no time at all, he responds.
Sam: Do you think it would be okay?
I sigh. All too okay, given that he’s dating someone else. This is just to keep up the way he inspires me.
This is because I want to see him, even if I can’t touch.
Jules: Just lunch, as friends
Sam: Then, yes. When?
Yes!
I suggest a date.
A long pause. Is Sam checking his calendar? Is he canceling something? Is he trying to think of a way of letting me down easy?
Sam: That sounds great. I’d love to see you. Please let me know where to meet you.
I do a very undignified fist pump.
Then I remember I can’t have him, he doesn’t want me the way I’d hoped he did, and all I’ve been doing is dickful thinking. I have to stop reading into what he says.
He isn’t for me.
