Dance like this

So I ended up meeting with Anit that night. We went to a house warming party of one of his friends. The melieu wsa rather queer dare I say...two musicians, two teachers, two punk chicks, one Iranian queer, two punjabis, one arab queer and one poor straight, white boy in a hoddie.

Quite the night of finger foods and wine, small talk and psychological observations from my part. Comments about pie and white flour, cogitations on the qualities of apples versus bananas.

And then there was Anit - yes well.

So we met again on Thursday night to go to Parking with Preet - one of his friends. Also there were the hot Parisian and my hunky arab friend Zin. Of course I lacked the testicular fortitude to do more than blush a hello to him (the parisian). And yes I danced away the hours with my hunky Arab - who is sadly shorter than I am...o well.

All the time with this little feeling - this glimmer in the depth of my being almost wishing that it could be someonelse. Anit just feels right. In his car, on the roads in the rain listening to Qawalli and random bits of reggae...old indian music and then the occasional 80's hit.
His voice and his excited, eager tones when topics switch to music and culture - and my simple sitting there...just sitting.

Yet there is no real deep love or infatuation. Its more the workings of logic. He just makes sense for me. He just seems right. He's beautiful and so much into things that match my lifestyle, myself. Yet I know he has none of these feelings for me - we are just great friends...

Can someone learn to love someonelse?

Tonight I meet with Anit. Have not seen him in a very long time - pretty much because of his exams and single-minded focus on his music...being a hip hop artist and all.

We are off to party for a friend of his - we'll see how this goes. I can't say that I have not thought of what it would be like to be with him. This is just one of those relationships that never will be. We are good friends - we've known each other for the past three plus years and though we only see each other sporadically it feels comfortable to be around him.

Yet there is a distance that's almost palpable. Odd.

Work carries on in its mindless routine. I believe I've found an apartment - its a basment of a duplex belonging to a friend from work. Should be interesting...