..not to feel anything for you." she said.

I felt the same, though I did not admit it. I allowed her to believe, as always, that her love was not returned, not wanted and not appreciated. Whether I responded or not, I can't recall.

I pictured her, that night, lying in bed alongside me. Her flesh against my flesh, her scent filling my bedroom. Some nights I longed for her, others I despised her. This night, I wanted only to consume her, but by morning, I wished to cast her memory away from me again.

Night after night, this would go on. My endless torment, I wanted her, and yet, I did not. I could not decide, would admitting my feelings do either of us any good?

I had little doubt that she would take me back, even though months before she had asked me the same thing, and I had told her how I felt at the time. We were done, we didn't match and whatever we did have once, what deluded, screwed up little thing we did have, was long gone, and never coming back.

When I thought of what she expected of me, I felt inadequate.
Perhaps I allowed my own feelings of insufficiency to cloud my judgement. Either way, it could never be between us as I desired, there were too many barriers.

And then came that night, when she said she didn't want to see me again. I asked her if it had been that terrible, and she responded with countless reasons why it hurt her to be near to me. I quietly told her that some of those things weren't true.

The next morning, she asked me if I would allow her to take me on a date the next time I saw her.

I didn't say Yes.
I didn't say No.

I still haven't.

I cannot distinguish which of my concerns are from the past, and which ones are a direct consideration of the way things are now.
My instincts tell me that I hesitate for good reason, but that reason is unknown to me.

"I find it hard not to feel anything for you." She had said.
If only she understood my turmoil.