Indecision

"So, what do you want?" he asked. "I need to know before I go home for the holidays."

I thought we already had this conversation, once every day this weekend. I wanted something with him, but I just didn't know what. Or, no, I did know. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't say it because I knew there was nothing I trusted about him.

So I just said, "I know how I feel, but I didn't think any further than that."

Of course I had. Between studying breaks, maybe once during breakfast, maybe a few times while daydreaming in class or procrastinating on assignments, or when I had to ask him for more details about an event our student clubs were coordinating, of course I did. I thought about what it would be like to go on long walks and watch sunsets, talk about the future and our hopes and dreams and insecurities, or make breakfast together and laugh about burnt toast, or call just say to say hi, or write postcards and letters to, or drink wine and listen to jazz and with silent appreciation, or be distracted from time to time. I wondered what it'd be like to care for this person.

"Well, I'm not particularly looking for a relationship right now." he said.

"That's fine," I answered.

No, it wasn't fine by me, but I was just too afraid to say it out loud.