I can't sleep. I've been trying to sleep. I played with my clit a little, but it didn't help. Something's really bothering me, and I'm not sure what.
Earlier tonight, I had a long webcam conversation with my best friend. We had a thing before, but she's now in New York working as an interior designer. It's such a hot job, I envy her. But she really deserves it, because she's got an amazing talent. Recently, she was asked to submit designs for a range of houseware, throw pillows, table cloths, plates, vases, what not. She's hoping it gets approved. If it does, she promised to send me a set of everything.
She told me she missed me, so I told her I missed her.
We've talked almost every night this past week. For some reason, our schedules clicked, and she had time to burn.
Most nights she would be talking about her work, meeting with clients, her designs, her inspirations. It's an exciting life, something I would gladly have. But she told me that she feels her life is on hold, that she feels stuck.
I've heard this before.
It's not something she mentions a lot, but we talk about it at least every six months, almost on schedule. Again, I hold my sigh and ask the same question I always ask:
Is it because of us?
The same pause, then the same answer. Part of it, yes, she answers.
It ends there. Nothing much else to talk about. We had a thing years ago, but she had to leave for New York, to study, then stayed on to work. Her entire family is there.
I'm happy for her, and I'm happy we're best friends.
But it's such a burden to know that someone's life is on hold because of you. Because of me. It would have been easier if I didn't care. I do care, but please move on.
So, tonight, I told her that.
There were tears and silences, and lots of quotes from self-help books. The call ended well enough. For her.
For me, I did my part as a good friend. But I only realize now, in my lack of sleep, that this is another relationship that could have been more.
We were inseparable for a while, and even tried being together. She let me talk and blabber all day, everyday, and she always listened and looked at me googly-eyed. She matched my sexual appetite and we kissed and fondled each other almost everyday (I loved how she kissed my breasts) , whenever we were together. We always made love (fucked, she prefers) while listening to Mishka Adams. It was fun and easy , but I always felt she had more love for me, more need for me, than I could for her.
We never had to resolve that, because she had a plane to catch. No real ending, no good-bye, no drama. Just a promise to keep in touch, and to keep the love. As friends. That was over two years ago.
I don't like long-distance anything. That's my conclusion for now.