Anticipation can be a terrible thing. Or perhaps ‘dread’ is. Perhaps this was dread, the expectation (but not certainty) of some negative event (rejection really isn’t all that bad, it is the not knowing I guess that bothers me the most). The diversion with Anne was wonderful, but I would like some closure with Sierra. Maybe she is just toying with me now, as a cat toys with its prey, before finally ripping its jugular out. I wish she’d get it over with, sever my artery and let me bleed out, I’ve been down this road before, I know I’ll rise again. It isn’t supposed to be this way, this was a no-strings-attached relationship, I don’t know how I became this invested. Except I do know; I was inexperienced, she was beautiful, and I fell for her, not hard to figure out, I need to stop adding unneeded complexity.
She only responds indirectly to the odd text I’ll send her, usually half a day later. Enough to keep me guessing. I suppose I could force her hand, get her on the phone and ask her point blank. But no, not yet, the time doesn’t seem right. I know I’m just being impatient. But, it’ll be nice to get this weight off. Give it a little more time. On a good note, if I mope a little bit longer I think I might finally get half as good as Beck at slide guitar; depression does wonders for one’s skill at playin’ the blues.