Doubts

So what has it been, other than my usual bouts of sleeplessness and lack of focus, that has prevented me from blogging?

I've been seeing the prof off and on for about ten months now, and last week she asked if I love her. "No" was the distillation of my answer, and I asked her the same question. Her reply was that "yes, sometimes, yes" she loved me. I said I had better be gentle with her heart then. And that, I suppose, is what I'm doing.

She shouldn't be reading my daily doubts. One might argue that she has a right to know, but those who say that don't know that my normal state of being is one of doubt. Doubt in myself, doubt in my feelings, doubt in everything around me.

Do I even know what love feels like, other than a feeling of caring, a tug of concern?

I know I feel something for her, and I know that my feelings are tempered with the knowledge of a much less than certain future together. She's only here perhaps two-thirds of the time, jetting around the world on projects and visits the remainder. She isn't fond of this place, with it banal suburban narratives, cut off from the thrills of New York, London, and so forth. She was hesitant to be involved with my children despite liking them, and only recently did we spend a "family" evening where she and I joined the boys in watching a movie on TV. Probably most important in building my wall was being temporarily kicked to the curb in summer, and the only truly consistent aspect of our relationship being its inconsistency.

So could I even let myself go?

Letting myself go hasn't exactly been my trademark throughout life.

Whatever my precise feelings are, I obviously get something out of this relationship, or I wouldn't remain in it. One would think.

Is it fair to her?

Is it fair to me?