a bird in the hand

i was never sure why i started dating him--he wasn’t a 10, had a grumpy attitude and a way of staring at you that made you feel small and dismissed. years slipped by, and we stayed on the same track of basic communications and the occasional hard word exchange that never had a chance of being settled...they were shuffled out of sight out of mind out of thought, while we moved to the next discussion. with both of us celibate, there was no intense make up sex or even the delicious badness of angry sex, with it’s harsh breathing and quick slamming together--a treaty in the middle of heated battle. there was little we could do to change things; he was leery of my intentions, i was leery of his concern. thus we carried on, knowing there was something more, always wondering why we couldn't quite make it work, never willing to question it too much. it was easier to stay in a place of blinding sameness than to be brave enough to step out into the unknown.