Stress Baking

I am a stress baker. I don't mean bake, like Toke up. I mean bake like Cook. I will bake like crazy if I am stressed. For example, in the past two days I have made fudge, apple pie, bread and roasted some squash. Along the way, I have also cleaned my house... twice.

What might you ask am I stressing about. Oh. Just this simple thing.

A guy, who due to his incessant paranoia of them will here by be referred to as The Zombie.

The Zombie and I met, briefly about two months ago. He was stationed up here in Washington and had been an acquaintance of my HLP (Hetero Life Partner aka Best Friend), for quite some time. He grew up in Roseville, CA which is just a hop and a skip away from Auburn. He is a very smart, funny, witty and interesting individual. We met a week before he left to go back to Roseville. We saw each other three times in that week and have talked on the phone, online and texted quite a bit....

I like him. A lot. I have that fluttery feeling that you get when someone touches your soul in a specific place. I had it when I met him and there is just something about him that won't leave me alone. I see his smile and his stupid glasses in my head and it's like just this image that is burned there. I feel like when he looks at me he is really seeing me and understanding me. He laughs at my bad, bad jokes and when he doesn't he doesn't make me feel bad for being so lame. And he's cute. Really cute, like, painfully goodlooking dude.

But he lives in Roseville and he hates Washington with a passion that is neverending. That of course sucks. Despite this, I felt like I needed to say how I felt. I needed the relief of letting it be heard. I called him up tonight and told him. He was at Chipotle.

I don't really know what actually happened. I don't think he feels like it is something that is even feasible and has rejected the idea because of that. I wish I had the same ability to do so. Instead I just feel a little more lonely and stupid tonight.

I just have to remember that this is going to be one of the many lessons I will learn now. How to not say how I feel. To play the game or whatever. It's all so fucking weird.

The thing that kills me, that really just hurts is that Zombie was nice to me about it and still wants me to hang out with him when I am down there and vice verse. This all would have been so much easier if he was mean to me, because then I could have just brushed it off like he was the asshole. Instead, it's me. I'm the one who had to say it out loud even though it was pretty obvious how we feel. Now, now it's in the room. It's filling all of Oregon and the spaces in between with it's awkwardness and vulnrability. It's ugly, damn it.