Last night, I had dinner with Paul S with every intention of letting him know one of two things:

1. I love him and I don't care if he is sick. I want to be with him for as long as we can stand each other.
OR
2. I love you and I know that you don't love me but because I love you, I won't leave you in your time of need but as soon as you are well enough, I will be leaving so that we both can be free.
INSTEAD
I did nothing.

We started at Intelligentsia. Paul S was editing one of his projects and nursing a tea when I arrived. I was a little cranky. I had skipped breakfast and lunch opting to spend my lunch break shmoozing at my agents' office. I was grumpy but I couldn't wait to see Paul after my day of temping at the great big ad agency . We spoke about his project, his brother (and the girlfriend), his health, my new story idea, my temp job, and my impending homelessness (this is a whole other journal entry). We left the coffee shop in search of cheap food. We finally landed at Yen's on Clark.

Paul S ordered the red curry chicken and I ordered the Schezuan Pork. We had pleasent and mostly playful dinner conversation and then I walked Paul S home. I wanted to blurt one of my two resolutions to him but I couldn't do it. I can't bring any more grief and aggravation to his world. The man is ill for goodness sake. I don't think he needs me crying about what I need. I don't think he has room and he doesn't need the stress. So, I blew it. I let my chance go. I went home and had a little cry. I don't know if I should feel like a coward, a hero, a true blue friend, I just don't know.