Desperado... why don't you come to your senses...

I'm in a weird place. I'm in a place where I feel untouchable, unreachable. I want to be here, though, inexplicably, paradoxically. I am sitting from a place watching quality men from afar, unable to respond.

The philospher emailed me today about the "us" that never was.

"I would have thrown my heart and soul into loving you and being the best boyfriend possible if you had wanted me." 

I felt that inevitable sadness at giving up without trying, at missing my chance.


Maybe I would have been really happy, I think.

But I am not ready.

I feel that same sadness with another guy paying me special attention, who wrote me a poem:

i can't slow down she can't catch up
hence my watching the red-head who isn't red
she's caught up
just not caught up
on me yet.

The only thing I can do, it seems, is embrace the line from the Steve Job's vid going around:

"As with all matters of the heart, when it's right, you'll know." 

I listen to Desperado by the Eagles, soothed by the mournful tone, struck by the relevance.

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late

And then I curl up in bed with a good book, alone.