The psychology of an imagined relationship between two characters
Still, his body would not move forward. Angry at himself, he retracted his hand, standing awkwardly. Feeling as if he should put his hands in his pockets, he did so. This did not relieve the storm of emotions roiling within him.
Why should he feel this way? He tried to console himself. After all, there was nothing to be afraid of. In fact, he should be glad to enter the office. To enter HIS presence again. Nothing could make him happier...he shouldn't be frightened. That should be the least of his emotions.
The normal elation he felt at the thought of entering HIS presence was overcome by the fear again. This was strange...usually he would lock away such fear and continue...continue with the behavior that was expected of him. That was his life. That was what he was here for. At least, to HIM.
To this man, frozen by fear, there was much more to the office; to the one who inhabited it. He would be glad if he could just be in HIS presence. But...still...the fear persisted.
He didn't like to think deeply. That made things difficult. Whenever he tried to ponder things, he found that the only thing that happened was that the problems seemed more complex and difficult to solve. But he found that unless he could overcome this fear and move forward, he would find himself at the receiving end of HIS indignation.
Perhaps it was the feeling he got from HIM. He knew, in his heart, in his soul, that he was deeply in love. Blindly in love. He had known it for a long time. He had read about love but had never truly experienced it. He knew it was here. He knew what it SHOULD be like. And this wasn't it. He knew that love was a two-sided affair. It required the participation of both partners for true love. He had also heard, of fractured relationships where one side had broken down. He wanted the real kind. The kind where his affection would be returned. Where he would be worth something...where he would elevate who he loved on a pedestal and be elevated in return.
He knew that that would never happen. He knew the man who sat in that office, probably not fretting the least about what happened about him; could care less. He was treated like a child...looked down upon...a mental inferior...just kept around for laughs like a court jester. But he could only blame himself. He perpetuated it by playing up to that expectation. He wished that once, just once, he might get some respect from HIM. Some kind of sign, some words or gestures, that meant he was worth something. Something - anything that would justify this devotion and help him feel as if he was loved as well.
Why couldn't he have fallen in love with someone else? He knew he had chosen the wrong person...he knew from the beginning. He couldn't help himself. He had had many other flings, but no close feelings like for HIM. None could make him feel as he did in HIS presence. No one ever came close to HIM. He knew that now, no one ever would.
Why couldn't he get SOME kind of affection back? Something to tell him he was worth something. Anything...he was so desperate. He was so lonely.
It was his own fault. There was no denying that. He had many chances...many chances to reveal how he felt. Everytime he would get so close, then back away. He would feel the words rising within him, but he would never let them free. Because he was afraid of what would happen if HE knew. He had been around HIM so long...he knew how HE would react. He was frightened...because he knew that HE would be angry. How he wished he could let these feelings free! Just once...just once and he would be fulfilled. Just once, if he could do everything he wanted to...without protest...without anger...without reprimand...without the hatred or fear or imperviousness of HIM.
Why did he love HIM? He didn't know...he just knew that he did. He didn't know what it was about HIM. Sometimes HE was frightened of him...but there was also something drawing about HIM. No...he had no ambition but to be loved by HIM. Perhaps it was the situation itself...the simple feeling of the edge...so close and so far. It tortured him...and at the same time, made HIM even more desirable. He couldn't stand it sometimes...he marveled at the fact he could remain in HIS presence and not lose control of his emotions.
Yet everyday, he wished he could tell HIM... and have HIM listen. He had tried before...but HE was always distracted. HE was always doing something else, or not regarding him seriously.
Did HE know how much HIS teasing words stung him at times, made him feel as if he was being ripped into shreds? Didn't HE realize that HE could have someone who cared about HIM, would give the world for HIM, if HE only asked...if HE only paid attention? He could have the affection that he had so dreamed of...had constantly told HIM about, longing for company. Not wanting to be alone. Oh, how he longed to tell HIM...he could never be alone again...if all HE would do is listen and ask and accept...
Didn't HE know how he felt? Wasn't it obvious? From all the signs, from all the things he had done, HE had yet to even seem to care. He never spoke of it...neither did. Some unknown thing within both told them that it was not to be spoken of. But he wanted to speak of it...he wanted to tell HIM how he felt... but he knew he couldn't...because the repercussions were to great...and he did not wish to risk HIS anger for feelings that he knew would ever be returned.
He did not wish to leave HIS presence...ever. So he was stuck...he could not tell HIM how he felt, yet he could not leave HIM. He felt such agonizing pain, staring at him day after day and thinking things to himself. Thinking how much he longed for HIM...longed for any signs of affection of any kind. Anything...he wished for anything to soothe the racking pains that went through his heart as he watched HIM. He wasn't sure if his wish would ever be granted.
Knowing that such thoughts should not be entertained, he tried to banish them. He knew that he did feel this way, but he felt some kind of guilt. It was as if he shouldn't...as if HE was some precious thing he could never touch...just dream about. And he did dream about HIM...all the time. And he did touch HIM...brush HIS hand occasionally...
He wondered why he was cursed to this endless chase around something he was not sure he could catch. He bounced around from one fling to the next, hoping to make HIM just a little jealous, but there was never any sign of it. He wish he could tell HIM...he wished he could get it all over with...and he wished that, if someday he did, that it would end in the way he had always wanted. He wanted to be HIS partner...not just his friend. All he could for now was wait. Wait for the day...when HE would reveal how HE felt. But for now, he would have to continue playing the fool to maintain the /status quo/.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, resigning himself to his fate. Pushing the door inward, he entered the law office.
"Hiya, Will. Take me out to lunch, please," Jack said cocking his head and batting his blue eyes playfully.