He picked me up, opened the car door for me, made reservations, paid for my meal, and dropped me back off at my house.
We might just be friends though. I don’t know. The concept of flirting is strange to me, and I kinda told him to stop doing it via texts and so he kinda stopped doing it entirely.
Plus if we date then I’ll be even more awkward and secretive when it comes to discussing my health, and I can’t handle dating people and being concerned about whether they’ll accept or reject me because I have a bone disease and OH NO, your kids might get it, or like, she might not be able to go on awesome four hour mountain hikes with you.
…I just want to be friends so that you accept me for how I am instead of only seeing what I’m not.
The horribly irony is that I want so much to be individually loved and wanted, and I keep writing poetry and songs that glorify romance, and I feel like I want it so much, but then when I come face to face with it, I’m terrified of my own faults being revealed and not being accepted for who I am once they know everything about me.
Plus there’s the whole, accepting them for who they are part.
I thought unrequited love was painful, but apparently being open in requited love can be just as tough.