"Do Not Feed Do Not Climb Over Fence" (5/07/09 Thursday)

Two full work days have passed, and I'm still not quite sure how things stand. Yet when I consider the meeting with Julie that blustery evening, the regrets that spun me round in bed the night following have been all but marginalized into non-existence by what I can truthfully call the accomplishments of that evening; chiefly, establishing, frankly and unashamedly, how I feel about her and admitting the persistence of these feelings as a virtually immutable force that will color even my proximity to her. In realizing this, I have discovered a freedom.

On Tuesday, the first day after our talk, Julie and I exchanged pleasant greetings but nothing else. Wednesday, I ventured to chide her for staying late as "penance" for her "busman's holiday" at Glen Allen, a notoriously ill-attended branch at which she'd spent the first half of the day. She took it in the spirit meant.

Forty minutes on a bike in the dark is a fecund setting for the fruits of contemplation: I created more than a freedom Monday evening; I birthed a power. I can do as I please now, can't I? Not knowing quite what that means is a danger, but as I've absolutely assured her of my lack of romantic intent, I am free to ridicule it. When I was angry and ashamed to be futilely in love, though I knew it was important to find the humor in the futility, all I found was sarcasm. I was the bitter target of all my jokes, and Julie the bullseye of my resentment. Now that I have accepted that I am in love beyond my control, I have effectively isolated these feelings as a separate entity--quarantined them, caged them. They are now in my little zoo for me to visit for my amusement. I won't go so far, yet, to proclaim that that is all they are, that they have no longer any power over me, but I think I suffer no delusion, either, to believe that their power is substantially diminished, and because of that I am entitled to turn the tables on them. This power, newly established and arrogantly claimed, will stand its first test early today: I saw today's schedule last night: The first full hour at work will be on the desk with Julie. The old anxieties of such a prospect try to pile on, but, for now, I'm able to shrug them off with a smirk. I'll take that smirk with me to the desk. I don't plan on keeping it, but I hope its removal will be gradual and natural, sloughed off like old skin. As self-proclaimed "stupidest person in the world" in her proximity, how self-conscious can I be anymore? Even that is something to have fun with now.

But will Julie have fun wih me? How comfortable will she be with me? I imagine it will take her a little longer, but she told me it would be up to me to re-establish the old rapport I've missed so badly; that, apparently, it is my ensuing behavior that will win back her trust. I don't even want to think about that, don't want to start calculating and second-guessing my every action and word in her presence. That's an altogether different and more malignant danger, but with which I hope I am familiar enough to be conscious of and now better prepared to battle.