In my life, there has been only one person apart from my father, whose opinion I’ve taken seriously. There has been only one person who has made me feel ignorant. I’ve known many many smart men I think. He’s the only one that never ceases to catch me off-guard. He’s the only one who gets my jokes and still makes me feel inadequate. I love his company. I love that I look up to him, I love that I have no control over him, I love that he’s his own person and makes it explicitly clear.

Okay fine, it bugs me to death! Not being able to understand him, not being able to control him, not having any sort of control over myself when I’m with him. Not being able to love him.

I can’t love him though. I don’t know why. I wish I could and I wish he could. It’s just something that’s not on the table, for a multitude of reasons. I think it’s chemistry. We don’t have chemistry. I think it’s society. I think it doesn’t look good enough on paper, for either of us. I think it’s my family and his. I think it’s our pasts. My inability to accept his and his view of mine as too sheltered. I think it’s vain inhibitions. I think it’s misled feelings for other people.