It is the only word I have to describe the days that followed after I discovered Wyatt had been turned to female.. Not that any moment made me want him less or changed any feelings I had for him. Never again did we repeat our experimenting, but neither were there any kisses or touches between us. I do not if this is because of his relationship with Chris combined with becoming adjusted to his new body or if it is simply me. I won't lie that it is hard to not have the man before me in his true form, but I have spent more time by his side these days than any number of his friends or family. Yet, it still wasn't enough. The moment he changed back we had our fair share moments of passion. But the old pattern begins again. The hesitations, the slight pulling away, the avoidance of my questions, and the not truly expressing himself. Only in our heated moments does he ever seem to let go and deny who he is or what he wants. But what does he want? Me, Chris, both of us to have as he needs or chooses? I am a selfish demon and I do not wish to share. I want everything this man has and everything he is for myself. I swear by all that is unholy that some day I will unlock him and then he will see just how much happiness he deserves. How much he deserves to be loved. But I find myself trapped between emotions again. I have no claims to him, truly no one does, but I am still the other woman, the intruder, and the one who must suffer when I am not chosen again. Why do humans set themselves up for such pain, such turmoil? Who am I to question what humans when do when I find myself settled into the same web. And as Wyatt's attentions settle more and more back to Chris he becomes more distracted and I see him less. I am not sure if this is for his own good or mine. Again, I ask..who the hell ever said the female creature was so complicated? I know what I want, but what he wants is more important to me. His happiness always comes above any cherished thought of us being together. Friends, lovers, the other woman, a mere distraction, a plaything..all of these things cross my mind when I try desperately to decide what I mean to him. And the longer I dwell on the heart breaking possibilities, the more restless I grow and I am unsure on rather to go or stay. Deep inside I know the answers, he asked me to not ever walk away again and I promised I wouldn't. No matter the circumstances. Tomorrow is the dead line to make my choice, on rather I get my own place or continue these nights in this pathetic hole I have come to call my room. Maybe, if I carve a place for myself, my restlessness and indecision will be easier to take on. It will give my mind something to do as I decorate and create a place I can call home for once. Maybe..I will figure out just who or what I am supposed to be. The night is still young and I feel like writing is not enough to allay my fears or thoughts to things I know I can control. For now, I will walk..and pretend words like unrequited love and heart ache do not exist...
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