Diary of an expectation hangover

An exploration of differing expectations in a friendship that leaves me with more questions than answers.

Is love enough? I can't tell for sure. I just don't know if we can, or should, base this friendship on shared history. I don't know if that's enough. Is proximity enough? Society will suggest that it is. What if we find that we have nothing in common? What if our time together is marked by uncomfortable moments of silence? Do we get to a point where we call it quits? How do we even let that happen? Do we have a conversation, or will it be a slow fade to black? I don't have answers. Do I even like you? Do you like me? Or do we keep seeing each other because this is what we've always done? I want to be stimulated. I want conversation to flow. I want to talk about stuff that matters. What matters to you? What gets you hot under the collar? What stops you in your tracks? Who are you at the core of your being? I don't care about your work schedule. I care about the things that make your heart beat faster. How can I explore who you are if I can't get in? If the walls are so high that I have to wonder if anyone is ever allowed in? I feel helpless, my efforts have been in vain.

What do I want? I want someone who speaks to my soul, and I want to do the same for them. Tepid, lukewarm conversations won't suffice. Do you realise that life is short? Do you know that, when you've looked death squarely in the face, just getting by is not good enough and can never be again?

Please understand that I don't deem myself superior to you. Indeed, the awareness that we are not deeply connected is disappointing.

Surface is for acquaintances you run into on occasion. That's understandable, perhaps even healthy. Talk to me about your hopes and your fears and what you will and won't settle for. Share your heart's desires with me, give me reason to believe that the time we share is precious to you, that I am precious to you. How can we, when there are so many pressing issues to explore, make small talk? How can I share my heart with you when you're a closed book? 

Where are you? Where are you when something significant happens in my life? How would I even know when something significant happens in your life? How can what happens between us, so infrequent and unsubstantial, be of any worth? Or am I measuring worth by different standards to yours? Do you think about these things? Does it concern you that vital topics go untouched while we continue being polite with one another? Do you care that the world is burning to the ground while we discuss the weather? Does it matter? It matters to me. I don't even know what you consider to be your purpose in life, because that's something you have never shared with me. How can you swim in shallow waters when there are deep depths to explore? And why do I feel so deeply condemned for expecting more? There are no answers. Only the questions that make me doubt. That make me wonder if any of this is worth it. 

I still don't know if you secretly wanted children, but discarded that dream when you married someone who was adamant not to. I don't know what keeps you up at night. I don't know what sets your heart alight, and I may never know. For now, that has to be enough. Perhaps this is how things end.