update from sparkleup

writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/30.md

@@ -11,7 +11,7 @@ This means that there are two possible scenarios to consider:
 * My subconscious mind was starting to, as a client put it the other day, catch feelings, and thus the situation I find myself in now has a longer history than expected
 * The history behind this current set of emotions has some later starting point and the way in which Kay and I became friends has no bearing on the present other than as an interesting story.
 
-If the former is the case, then I think it is worth some introspection as to what about our in-person interactions might have drawn me to her romantically. As I mentioned, she was frightfully smart. She was kind. She was not unattractive, either, and as a coyote, certainly someone who ought to have been in the market for me (I know that many of the more liberal bent are increasingly okay with interspecies relationships, but, liberal as I try to be, my upbringing and my time within the church seem to have set me on the straight and narrow path, here).
+If the former is the case, then I think it is worth some introspection as to what about our in-person interactions might have drawn me to her romantically. As I mentioned, she was frightfully smart. She was kind. She was not unattractive, either, and as a coyote, certainly someone who ought to have been in the market for me.[^market]
 
 If the latter is the case, however, then I have to wonder why it is that such feelings did not form until distance became an issue, for less than a month after that dinner with Kay and her parents, she moved away from UI Sawtooth to prepare for her masters at UI Boise and our communication moved almost entirely to email and PostFast messages. I know that we tried to call once or twice, but neither of us is particularly keen on phones.
 
@@ -43,3 +43,4 @@ I was not surprised, but I was, admittedly, disappointed. I try not to be disapp
 
 I perhaps just wanted some guidance.
 
+[^market]: I know that many of the more liberal bent are increasingly okay with interspecies relationships, but, liberal as I try to be, my upbringing and my time within the church seem to have set me on the straight and narrow path, here.

writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/31.md

@@ -6,4 +6,44 @@ Before we both wound up on PF, though, we had been emailing back and forth. We s
 
 I had planned to dig back through those conversations for my Saturday afternoon task, hunting for hints of yearning among however many thousands of words we've shared. But, as happens, I got caught up in the business of the day. I wrote that entry earlier full on planning this, and then I remembered I had to vacuum the last remnants of winter coat from the floor. Having vacuumed, I figured I might as well use that momentum to clean the kitchen, and while there, I remembered that I needed to cook for the week.
 
+Not all plans were made to be followed to the T, though.
+
+Instead of sitting down at the computer and digging and rereading and reliving --- or attempting to --- I set myself to mindless tasks through which I could live in memory, instead. I thought back instead of read back, and I did my best to put words to my feelings at the time.
+
+Kay and I's first lunch together was an accidental affair. During that final semester, I was spending my afternoons sitting in on sessions and, towards the end, holding supervised sessions of my own. I learned early on that a lack of calories in my system would lead to irritability and an increased difficulty in masking for the sake of my patients, so I began leaving my final seminar and heading straight for the student union for lunch before my first sessions began.
+
+The food there was not great. You grow up on a farm in the northwest and you get used to a certain type of food. Sure, there are plenty of steaks and burgers at home, but you also have a healthy selection of homegrown produce and homemade canned goods. There is little enough profit in the industry for family farms, so my parents saved money where they could by growing what they were able to.
+
+The student union, though, had four restaurants. A burger joint, a bagel shop, a soup-and-salad place, and a Mexican restaurant, all of them chains. The soup-and-salad place was my go-to, most days: they were the most likely to have an interesting selection on a day-to-day basis, they were the most likely to have vegetables other than shredded lettuce, and they were the least likely to leave me with an upset stomach later on in the afternoon, even if they were also the most expensive.
+
+I smile to think back on the sheer number of combo meals I ate there. Half salad --- usually Caesar --- cup of soup, and square of focaccia, all arranged neatly on a tray. Few of the soups were memorable, of course, but almost none of them were bad. I was willing to accept "consistently okay" food.
+
+I was waiting in line, lost in thought, watching the woman on the other side of the counter scoop lettuce and croutons into a bowl where it would be tossed with dressing, when Kay sidled up behind me and said, "Hey, Dee."
+
+I will admit that the context shift of seeing her outside of the library initially caught me off guard. Always, I had been standing before a counter waiting on one of the employees to fetch my books off the shelf. Always, there had been a barrier between us, a requisite space that kept us apart.
+
+Now, though, she was right behind me, standing closer than any counter would have permitted in the past. I hesitate to say that I didn't recognize her out of this context, for her voice was still the same and I could easily put voice to name in my head, but it took a few seconds for it to sink in that, hey, this was Kay. We had talked. We knew each other.
+
+I had known that she was shorter than I, but I hadn't realized just how much. I could see over the top of her head between her ears. I also hadn't noticed her scent before, at least not to this extent. The library was full of the scents of others, despite the open spaces and constant air circulation, so it was far more difficult to pick out an individual's scent over any other's. Now, it was far more distinct, closer, more present.
+
+It was not unpleasant, of course. She smelled of coyote and femininity and slowly fading scent block. There was no scent of stress, either, something I hadn't noticed had always been present in the library until its absence here.[^stress-scent]
+
+I realized I'd been staring and snapped to attention. "Kay, hey, sorry. Long morning. Lunch break for you, too?"
+
+She nodded. "Yep. Theory classes first thing in the morning, then work, then techniques in the afternoon. I steal lunch when I can."
+
+"I've not seen you come through here before," I said, handing over my card to the cashier. "Don't think I've ever seen you outside the library, come to think of it."
+
+She shrugged. "Forgot my lunch."
+
+I waited for her to pay and pick up her own tray of food. I remember, for some reason, that she had ordered a full salad with strips of chicken on top.
+
+I also remember that there was no discussion of us sitting at the same table and eating together. This was unusual for me. I struggle to eat around others without feeling hypervigilant over how I must appear to others. Too many frowns for chewing too loud, too many admonitions to slow down. That I would just walk over to a table with someone and share a meal with them without thinking was a strangeness that struck me only after the fact.
+
+We talked a little, though I've largely forgotten about what. I remember asking what techniques classes were, and I remember she asked me what I did for work, but the rest must have been small talk that slipped from our minds.
+
+All I remember is the not-unpleasant sensation of seeing something out of place. Kay belonged in the library. That was the context in which she fit most easily. That she might exist outside, might have a life, might actually be a real person, with real hopes, real dreams, the very real need to eat added depth to her, and while, on thinking back, I'm sure there was no early hint of a crush, there was no small amount of pride in the small success of seemingly made a friend after setting my mind to the matter.
+
 [^email]: I have sometimes considered why this might be the case, and I have two main thoughts on the issue. The first is that email allows for threaded conversations. One can respond to a particular email, perhaps even after the conversation has continued from beyond that point. This also allows one to reply inline, even, interjecting thoughts between points one's interlocutor has made. The second is that as a self-advertised "mobile first" application, PF limits the width of the text per message to what might fit on a phone screen, even when using their desktop application, and something about reading a very narrow, very long block of text feels like a misuse of the medium.
+
+[^stress-scent]: I freely acknowledge that not all have the attraction to libraries that I do, and that the stress-scent I had been experiencing there could just as easily have been something more universally ambient than related to Kay herself.