It’s one of those days that work gets in the way and emotions have got side-tracked. Aiden tries to be understanding, but more like be supportive to the limit he wants to lock himself in the room and then keep working on his thesis (a way of showing understanding but slightly overwhelming at times.)

I try to be close to him, but he ends up feeling guilty thinking that he is in the way of my work, hanging out with my friends, and the possibility of going out. I have run out of words to explain that I spend time, doing nothing, but lying next to him (as he types in words of his thesis) out of choice and not though obligation. But I have since of late given up.

My legs are killing me,  Adrien’s mood swings slightly annoy  me, and his aloofness hurt at times when my emotions do revive.

He act at times like a shy child, and runs to his emotional shell when he feels that he is losing me. I have long realized that he would turn possessive when we get close taking time to sink into the new emotions through aloofness.

Walking in silence he would tuck his hands in his pockets, and I would walk in silence next to him wishing he would reach out. He does after a while, in his indifference as a habit and then smiles with me. His eyes light up and I remember the Aiden I love, the one for whom I care and want to hug and assure things will work out, that space would not turn into emptiness, and that his tantrums or panic attacks over all the emotions or process between us, would not push me away as he imagines. I want to him to feel the normalcy of kissing me before leaving the room, experience it become a habit, and part of our lives. But we are still on that rocky zone, where he needs to be proved that he is not going to get hurt by letting in those emotions.

Imelda over dessert senses the tension between us. Aiden tells her that I don’t introduce him to my friends. I end up defending myself and provide that he does not get out of the room. He adds he has had a bad day. I sense that  he is sending me a silent message. I feel grateful for Imelda’s presence and the bottle of wine consumed in her rom.

“I am sleepy. But you guys need to talk!” she tells, before handing me the share of her bill and taking her coat to walk into the chilly night.

I dread the moment since I don’t want to hurt him or myself anymore with the conversation on the topic we have been going in circles the whole day.

“Why didn’t you go to the party”

“Because I did not feel like doing so”

“You should have gone!” he says.”

“But I wanted to be here with you!””

Silence, fidgeting with fork, dissecting of particles in the salad in front of him.

“I love you. But I don’t want to marry you or anything like that.”

“I know,” he says.

He touches my cheek and presses his face against mine. His curly hair falling over his forehead that I push away before kissing his forehead and the tip of his nose. (I have stopped kissing him on the lips for the day so as not to cause another panic attack in him with unjustified and non-analysed feelings flooding in between us. I was tired of the space between us.)

He reaches for me and pulls me closer, wrapping his hand around my waist. I feel warmth for the first time for the day while the cold wind crashes on my skin, reminding me that I need to face his coldness when he finds his shell again,  retreats to it, blocks me out.

Together we walk into the night, hands locked. He smiles with me, and I reply with a smile that spreads across my face, reminding me the happiness we do share on a good day, and the tenderness he does possess but offers in rations at times.

I look at his face and realize that things will fall in place, if not now, at least in the future. They always do..