That's Because It's Love--Remember? (2/19/09 Thursday)

If my conscience didn't bother me Monday, it's now shredding me like a nightmare beast. Yesterday, I made the same mistake of bad timing I had made Saturday. The results were different. I pushed the cart of mail books down the back hall, but I wasn't halfway when I heard a familiar laugh at the other end. I pushed harder, stepped longer, but Julie turned the corner from the breakroom, smiling. My sympathetic instinct was to smile, but in a blur of conflicting thought and emotion, a split-second entanglement of rationale over what would be right or wrong to do and what her reaction might be to any of my possible actions and what power I might gain or lose as a consequence, I hardened my face like baking clay and looked at her. Her smile vaporized. It was as if I had slapped her. She flattened against the wall as I approached and passed. I was, and am, thoroughly ashamed of myself.

I can't deny that I still desperately want her attention, but not as some scary, wild-eyed sad-sack pining for her. And what other attention can I ever expect from her? None. I can't say that I don't want my behavior to affect her, but I don't want her pity. I can't say what I want. Nothing's logical.