I am two weeks into my season in Montana. I have had two episodes so far. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how my life will pan out with my illness progressing so quickly. I’ve known these new people for two weeks. Now let me allow myself to share my feelings without self-judgment. By two days in I developed romantic feelings for one my fellow crew leaders. Once that feeling sparks it envelops everything. If he smiles at me I’m overjoyed, if he talks to me I’m overjoyed. My head quickly decides it’s him. I love him. I want him. I need him to want me. Our first Friday night (February 10th) a group of us went out to dinner. I got drunk, but not so drunk as to be completely out of control, no, just drunk enough to confess my feelings. So that night I pulled him into the bar bathroom and we made out and I felt bliss. He asked if I wanted to go to his house. Yes! Of course. So we walked to his house. And in the dark of his room we kissed and I held him and he held me and my heart felt like it would burst. I slept there with him and woke up far less uninhibited. I was embarrassed and bashful, but underneath that there was that supreme joy. My mind and heart took our actions that night as confirmation and validation. But I know myself, my habits, and my therapist told me before I came out here that I had to wait five months before I acted on any feelings I might develop. So I told him I wasn’t supposed to do this, I was supposed to be chill. He accepted that and said we would chill. At that moment I should have asked for ultimate clarification. Because I thought we both reciprocated the feelings. I thought that even though he would respect that I needed to chill that he still wanted me; we would just be casual about it. So we talked in his room that morning about random things and then he drove me back to my apartment, where I spilled the details to my roommates and I felt GOOD. He came back to my apartment later that day with another crew leader and I led them through a yoga sequence and then the three of us walked around town. And I felt GOOD. I cannot stress enough the extreme happiness I felt.
So then we have another week of work. And I try to be chill. I watch every thought I have and try to maintain it in a healthy manner. I was so sure that he reciprocated these feelings. My feelings grew through the next few days and I decided to hell with my five month rule, if I feel something I should act on it, life is short, I like him and he likes me and I would tell him enough with the casual shit, let’s just do it. (Do it meaning: be together, and kiss and touch and care for one another.)
Two nights ago we all went out to dinner again and I approached him because if I didn’t my body was going to explode. I said I wanted more of what we had. He said no, not right now, this whole Corps experience is new to him and he’s trying to get used to everything. My heart drops. I mean DROPS. Plummets. Shatters. I turn around to one of the girls, JT, and ask her to get my bag because I need to leave that space immediately. She hands my bag to me, he walks away and I storm across the street, bracing myself for the swelling storm. I collapse on the sidewalk in the melting snow and sob. JT tries to console me and I keep saying “Why, why, why, I can’t do this again, I fucking can’t, I have to leave, I have to quit, I have to die.” I wanted to jump in front of the passing cars. I asked JT to tell my ride I have to go home. She leaves and my roommate comes to me, to help drag me to the car. I’m still crying and screaming and I grab rocks from the ground and hit myself in the head with them. She’s freaking out, dragging me into the car, where I slump in the backseat and sob some more. Once I got to the apartment I went straight for the knives, she stopped me, I fell to the living room floor and our other roommate came out. The two of them stayed with me for an hour while I cried. They forced me to sleep in the living room with them.
In the morning I went to the bathroom and used my razor to hack my arm. My roommate didn’t know what to do, she had JT come over, and after they talked to me for an hour we left the apartment to walk. They took me to the Helena cathedral. I sat in the pews and sobbed. We went to JT’s apartment where I drank tea and cried again.
When I got back to my apartment I texted him. Because I’m desperate. Because “not right now” is very different from “never” in my mind. So he came over and we talked for a while. I told him everything that happened. And he was alarmed and worried and sorry. I asked him for a definitive answer. The answer is no. Not now, not ever. I could barely look him in the eyes. He begged me to call my mom after he left. He asked if he should give me space at work; he said I can call him if I need anything; he said he was sorry he wasn’t more clear with me; he said I don’t deserve to be treated the way I treat myself.
I know to outsiders this seems ridiculous, unnecessary, crazy, etc. But all I know is how I feel. And time has no bearing on my feelings. I have known this guy for two weeks. Fourteen days. That amount of “time” means nothing to my mind or heart. My heart fully opened and welcomed him in. Gladly. All I know is I want/ed him, and I became certain he felt the same and I experienced such sublime joy in that belief, and now I’m wrecked. Not having him feels unfathomable. Excruciating.
I’m sharing this because I don’t know what else to do today. I’ll probably leave this library, go back to my apartment and succumb to the crushing grief. It’s bubbling up right now.