As I sat on Glenn’s couch, I realized just how peaceful I felt. That after a week of anxiety attacks, depression, tears, all of them caused by this man, just sitting on his couch was exactly where I wanted to be.

I listened to the silence of his 21st floor appartment filled with only the simple clanging of dishes being cleaned and Glenn mumbling under his breath about how little he like the cheesecake he made. I had already reassured him a hundred times just how wonderful it was. I wish it hadn’t felt so much like home.

My eyes were fixed on a giant painting he had on his wall. It was a Paris street in the middle of a rainstorm. There were Puddles and mud, and lonely people struggling down the street going to wherever they were going. The Arch de Triumph stood vaguely in the background, but with incredible detail. It seemed like a lonely painting, dreary and hopeless. Except that in every window, in stark contrast to the rest of the painting, an orange, passionate glow of warmth flared up with the hint that there was something wonderful happening inside. It gave the illusion that those stuck on the street in the rain, inculding the person gazing at the painting were missing out on something beautiful.

I had to take a closer look at this painting, but as I drew closer and closer, it became just a giant blur of paint strokes, seemingly random and meaningless. So, I stepped back and watch it come into detail again with immense detail. Then forward and then backward. I think Glenn thought I was nuts.

Oh but how this painting is so much my life at this exact moment. Dreary, depressing, a raincloud following me around. Happiness behing some inpenetrable wall, but right there in front of me. And the more I try to analyze my life, the blurrier and more confusing it seems.

Glenn interrupted my trance by letting me know that the movie was starting in a couple minutes, and that we had to go. We went and saw monster’s ball. Glenn paid again, even though I insisted on it. He paid for the food, even though I begged. Honestly I love having everyingthing bought for me, but I hate that I love it, which leads to guilt. The movie was absolutely amazing. Its the movie that Halle Barry won her best actress award for. After coming out of the movie I looked at Glenn and stated “I thought I was having a bad week, but after seeing that movie, my life seems perfectly pleasant. Wow, were their lives miserable!” He just agreed.

I remember one line from the movie where Billy Bob Thorton leans over in bed and states, “I’m going to take care of you.” and Halle Barry looks at him and says “Good! Because I need to be taken care of.”

Their relationship was as simple as that and as complex as that. Sometimes I wonder if what I really need is to be taken care of. Scratch that, I can take care of myself, I do every day. I want to be taken care of. I want someone to love me so much that every moment and action is an attempt to make sure that I’m alright and that nothing will ever hurt me. I’m quite willing to do the same, but its just such a romantic notion to be completely helpless untill a gorgeous knight sweeps you away to a perfect life.

Glenn could do this for me, emotionaly, if not anything else. And I hate the fact that its just not in him to feel that way about me. I’m pretty sure he likes me, and wants to hang out with me. I want the passion whereas he shows up and my doorstep in tears begging me to love him. This isn’t asking too much of him, he’s done that to someone before, his hardest unrequited moment. I’m even good friends with the man that rejected him. I hate that friend now, because he had a love I’ll never know.

So, I hate him for not loving me. Is that wrong? But in my hate, I feel the need to spend every moment with him, because thats when I don’t feel the pain of loving him.

My friends, the ones I’ve told, have mentioned that it sure sounds as though he really truley has feelings for me. I wave them off and assure them that he treats me like he does any of his friends. I can’t help but analyzing over and over what he has said to me, and what he’s done, trying to find any hint that a mutual attraction exists.

I remember sitting in the little bar beside the dance bar with him, drinking one martinin after another. All bought by him. We were completely wasted and having the most amazing conversation. He stopped me and said “I have a gift for you”. I couldn’t help but give him the strangest look. Here we are, two wasted gay men, in the dark corner, one on the verge of crying because he’s in love with this guy accross from him, and the guy accross from him claims he has a gift for him.

He went on to tell me just how amazing I am, and how special my personality is. I don’t remember much, thanks to the martinis, but I do rember my heart falling as he mentioned his lack of sexual attraction to me. I thanked him, and wished I could tell him just how equally amazing I thought he was, and that I thought he was the most attractive man I’d ever met, but with a giggle, we headed off to dance at the bar.

We spent the whole next day together. Going for lunch, going to the arcade, going to the movies, going to dinner, watching movies at his place. All bought bought by him. Every few minutes, I would look over at him and catch him staring at me, with a quirky, sexy smile on his face.

I waited and waited for him to call me again, and eventually I called him. That’s when we decided to go see Monster’s Ball.

I know he’s just a friend, and just wants someone to go to the movies with and show off the fact that he’s got oodles of money. Did he have to be so beautiful though, inside and outside? And for god’s sake, why does his presence have to bring me so much peace? Why did I have to let myself fall in love?

Honestly though, I’ve learned enough that love can’t be helped.

So, I’m just going to go through the next few days, waiting by the phone for his phone call with deep anxiety, praying for more hints that there just might be a smidgen of hope.

I’ll spend some time just thinking about the gift he gave me. The gift of letting me know how special I am, and wonderful. I’ll think upon how that made me feel, and just try to fall out of love with him, and into a beautiful friendship.

Friendship and love never mix though!