So, I lied to John last night. For probably the first time, I think. He said I seemed "highstrung" and asked if anything was wrong, and I said basically no. I wasn't even aware of lying--more of making the saying the 'least bad' thing. When in fact, the truth is, but I didn't even realize it till I slept through the night, is I have no idea if he's flirting with me (I think he is--I really, truly think he is), or just wants to be platonic friends (there are other times I think he does). But I want to kiss him so badly, I ache when I'm with him. But every time I've tried to take too much of an initiative with him, I've fucked it up, so I'm trying really hard not to push anything. To just see where it goes. And I'm terrified.
He continues to delight me and drive me crazy. Intellectually, I'm terrified of falling into the Edwin trap. I have so much fun with him, so much. But I just don't know that I can be platonic friends with him and not put the rest of my life romantic on hold. I'm not seeing other people much because I keep comparing other men to him and no one can compare. And now I'm like "if they haven't truly captured my interest and moved beyond banalities in 5 e-mails or one date, it just wouldn't work." I should mention that John is the only man who ever had an ad as introspective, insightful and clear (and long) as my own, so we started with a level of depth and just went deeper and deeper and deeper. But now it seems like we're different on e-mail (much more flirty) than in person (more vanilla and platonic).
I just can't tell if he'd consider me as a romantic partner. He does things that make me think he might, but then he does things that scream "He's just not that into you!" Especially the fact that he hasn't tried to be romantically involved with me since I couldn't keep up with him a year ago. If he were interested, I expect he'd make a move. And he's said things that imply he doesn't want a relationship with me, or maybe not exactly--can't handle one right now. The kind of things men say when they don't want to be with a gal, but it seems like he's genuine. I'm not sure. I just don't know.
I crave clarity. I crave us sitting down and talking things through and if he doesn't want a romantic relationship, I need to know. I need to force myself to stop thinking about him that way and see other people. Or sleep with my ex again, or something. But I know that that M.O. has never seemed to work for us. So I'm continually biting my tongue so that I won't do it. I would do anything I could to give us a chance to work and if biting my tongue at my incessant desire for clarity and focus gives us a chance, then so be it. Maybe he is trying to decide if he'd want to be with me, and I need to let him have the time to make that decision.
I have so much fun with him. And I think he has that with me. I know he could get someone much cuter than me. I'm just not in his league when it comes to looks. But over and over he's implied that he thinks I'm attractive, and whatever the issue is, it isn't looks. Which is odd. And scary, because my looks are what I think of as most wrong with me. I'm used to being rejected for not being pretty enough. And then the fact that I'm too strong of a personality, too opinionated. But he seems to not mind that. And then the fact that I have this compulsive need to peel away the surface and find the meaty issues underlying the facade. But he does that too; we match each other there. Intellectually, I know this is irrational. But emotionally, I'm like "well, my three biggest flaws aren't an issue for him, and there's still something wrong with me--how the hell do I fix that."
We played chess last night, and it was interesting because I reverted to the middle school kid who quit playing chess because she wasn't smart enough and lost every single game. And the way I play chess is kind of the way I date. I assume there's something deeply wrong with me and I'm going to fuck up. So instead of trying to find a way to win at chess (or be genuine with a partner who could truly love me for who I am and who I'm striving to be instead of who I pretend to be), I look for the 'least bad' move. Not that dating is chess (I hope!) but I do seem to have this underlying "I'm stupid/ugly" mentality for the two. But John let me win at chess. ;)
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thinking Back
This week has brought countless comparisons with 8 years ago. I don't know a lot of the Obama people, but when I find out about them, it's all good. 8 years ago, I didn't know who Bush's people were, but their records terrified me.
But, the real comparison for me, is 14-10 years ago, when Edmund was my best friend and I couldn't figure out what to do. I spent 4 years thinking we'd end up together. 4 years talking with him for 20 hours a week (or more!) on the phone, doing all the silly little things that couples do. And I swore I'd never do that again.
But you know what they say makes God laugh? Humans making plans. So here I am in a very similar situation.
I haven't figured out the role of this blog if John is in my life. I asked him to pick whether he'd read it or not, so at least I'd know, and he hasn't. But he said he isn't reading it right now.
Sometimes I feel like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (not that I've seen the movie, but she's the scary stalker chick I always think of).
Sometimes I wonder if John would be more interested in me if I weren't so interested in him. I should go buy a copy of The Rules and stop just being myself. But that would wreck what I like so much about him--our honesty. Our clarity. Our vitality.
Deep down, my fear is that that he wishes he were attracted to me. He thinks it would be ideal if only I were prettier. He has never said anything to make a smidgen of evidence that that is the case. He has, on numerous occasions, complimented me looks. He takes photos of me that make me look lovely. But I can't think of any other reason that we wouldn't want to give this a try.
We have similar ways of finding joy. Similar ways of killing time. Our minds think in mutually simpatico ways. He's more visual than I am, far more able to frame an image and desiring to capture it (I've never been out with him when he hasn't taken his camera out, and he takes beautiful photos.) But on the stuff that matters--we're both introspective on a path that is parallel although not synonymous with psychoanalysis. Self-psychoanalysis if you will. We're both bright. Neither of us owns a TV. We both have an intellectual curiosity that is more focused on breadth than depth, although we both burrow in depth in whatever interests us that season and then move on. We both make silly puns. We find these silly/awkward moments when all the wiitwd stuff floods a moment with a second meaning and we're aware of it, but we never let that overwhelm everything else. Wiitwd is a subtextual spice--it is not the main ingredient. But I don't have to deny that part of me or feel like I must protect that vulnerability. It is safe to be vulnerable with him. Being with him is joyous.
He is thoughtful and playful and kind and considerate. He is a good man with an evil streak and he knows it and delights in it, and I believe would absolutely protect me from it.
I go deeper when I'm with him. And unlike any man I've ever been with, I don't self-censor. I didn't self-censor with my ex, but mostly that was because he didn't care much. I realized, I couldn't give him my blog URL because he wouldn't read it when it wasn't that much about him, and that would hurt.
So it is odd that I want to know whether John is reading this. And it is because I do self-censor with John. Not a lot, but a little. I think in some ways he takes for granted that he could have me anytime he wanted and I want to preserve a little mystery. A little semblance of having my life together. Of being intrigued without being obsessed. Not that I'm obsessed, but I am definitely smitten. OK, maybe I'm a little obsessed.
I have no idea if we're supposed to live happily ever after (although, if it were the two of us, I expect we wouldn't exactly qualify for the "No-Drama Obama" administration), but I just believe that we are supposed to be together. I don't know for how long. Maybe a month. Who knows?
But there is some reluctance on his part that I just don't understand. Twice now he has gone with someone else instead of me. I understood the first time. I don't understand the second time, and if it happens a third time, I'll be devastated, and far less capable, I fear, of opening up to another person. Not that I ever plan to get to know someone the way I got to know John. But I'm sure that certainity just makes God laugh.
But, the real comparison for me, is 14-10 years ago, when Edmund was my best friend and I couldn't figure out what to do. I spent 4 years thinking we'd end up together. 4 years talking with him for 20 hours a week (or more!) on the phone, doing all the silly little things that couples do. And I swore I'd never do that again.
But you know what they say makes God laugh? Humans making plans. So here I am in a very similar situation.
I haven't figured out the role of this blog if John is in my life. I asked him to pick whether he'd read it or not, so at least I'd know, and he hasn't. But he said he isn't reading it right now.
Sometimes I feel like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (not that I've seen the movie, but she's the scary stalker chick I always think of).
Sometimes I wonder if John would be more interested in me if I weren't so interested in him. I should go buy a copy of The Rules and stop just being myself. But that would wreck what I like so much about him--our honesty. Our clarity. Our vitality.
Deep down, my fear is that that he wishes he were attracted to me. He thinks it would be ideal if only I were prettier. He has never said anything to make a smidgen of evidence that that is the case. He has, on numerous occasions, complimented me looks. He takes photos of me that make me look lovely. But I can't think of any other reason that we wouldn't want to give this a try.
We have similar ways of finding joy. Similar ways of killing time. Our minds think in mutually simpatico ways. He's more visual than I am, far more able to frame an image and desiring to capture it (I've never been out with him when he hasn't taken his camera out, and he takes beautiful photos.) But on the stuff that matters--we're both introspective on a path that is parallel although not synonymous with psychoanalysis. Self-psychoanalysis if you will. We're both bright. Neither of us owns a TV. We both have an intellectual curiosity that is more focused on breadth than depth, although we both burrow in depth in whatever interests us that season and then move on. We both make silly puns. We find these silly/awkward moments when all the wiitwd stuff floods a moment with a second meaning and we're aware of it, but we never let that overwhelm everything else. Wiitwd is a subtextual spice--it is not the main ingredient. But I don't have to deny that part of me or feel like I must protect that vulnerability. It is safe to be vulnerable with him. Being with him is joyous.
He is thoughtful and playful and kind and considerate. He is a good man with an evil streak and he knows it and delights in it, and I believe would absolutely protect me from it.
I go deeper when I'm with him. And unlike any man I've ever been with, I don't self-censor. I didn't self-censor with my ex, but mostly that was because he didn't care much. I realized, I couldn't give him my blog URL because he wouldn't read it when it wasn't that much about him, and that would hurt.
So it is odd that I want to know whether John is reading this. And it is because I do self-censor with John. Not a lot, but a little. I think in some ways he takes for granted that he could have me anytime he wanted and I want to preserve a little mystery. A little semblance of having my life together. Of being intrigued without being obsessed. Not that I'm obsessed, but I am definitely smitten. OK, maybe I'm a little obsessed.
I have no idea if we're supposed to live happily ever after (although, if it were the two of us, I expect we wouldn't exactly qualify for the "No-Drama Obama" administration), but I just believe that we are supposed to be together. I don't know for how long. Maybe a month. Who knows?
But there is some reluctance on his part that I just don't understand. Twice now he has gone with someone else instead of me. I understood the first time. I don't understand the second time, and if it happens a third time, I'll be devastated, and far less capable, I fear, of opening up to another person. Not that I ever plan to get to know someone the way I got to know John. But I'm sure that certainity just makes God laugh.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
High School
I just joined Facebook. I had to--my best friend's 11-year-old asked to be my "friend." How could I say no? Even if if her mother put her up to it (and I'm sure she did), I had to do it. I didn't want to do it, because it felt like it would be a time sucker, but I don't hate it. But the weird things is, almost none of my current friends are on facebook, but EVERYONE from my high school seems to be on it!
My friends now, for the most part, are very high achieving, single women in their thirties, pushing up to the 40s, but not quite there yet. In other words, people like me. Even my dad is impressed by the crowd I hang out with. But, I will always be someone who was a total dork in school. I have the mentality of an outcast. And I've made career compromises to live in the only city where I feel like I belong.
One of my high school friends is still my closest friend, so her marriage, kids, divorce, well her kid was why I got on Facebook, and it doesn't shock me. While I was a total dweeb in highschool, or worse, for some reason it is 'popular' kids that have been 'friending' me (maybe that's why they were popular? Or maybe because they were popular, they are totally comfortable going up to people they haven't seen for 20 years and asking to be their friend? Deep down, I think it is because I have a picture with a really cool celebrity--a total "A-list"--I don't think most of them would actually want to be "friends" with me, but we'll leave that aside for a moment.) Every single one is married with kids. And they look so old! So much older than me and my friends. I'm not sure if people in big cities take more care of themselves or because we don't have kids or if I'm deluding myself, or if is the gap between how I remember them and how they are now, but I swear they look so much older that I would have thought!
I got a new passport, and obviously the new photo is 10 years older than the old one. But I look better. My old one, I'm wearing a ton of makeup for and I tried to get as pretty a photo as possible (I've always been able to take the occasional good photo, and that's always been very important to my self-esteem). I had to cram this photo in while running errands. No make-up. I have a coat and scarf on. But I look much more comfy in my own skin, and more confident and more attractive. Aside from the blue squiggly lines on my face. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I'm thinner than I was in high school (not that that's saying anything--I was quite heavy in high school). So I certainly seem a cut above where I used to be.
But what's really interesting is that I'm more accomplished than the popular kids from my high school whom I have, to some extent, but proving myself to in abstentia. I realized at my 10th high school reunion (long, long, long ago--I didn't attend my 20th), that I had been trying to prove myself to these people, but I would have very little interest in being friends with most of them now. So how do I let go pushing myself, trying to prove myself? Instead of just enjoying who I am? Maybe if I accomplished what I want to be accomplishing instead of wasting time watching TV. Maybe it is easier to compare myself to others instead of comparing myself to whom I really want to become.
My friends now, for the most part, are very high achieving, single women in their thirties, pushing up to the 40s, but not quite there yet. In other words, people like me. Even my dad is impressed by the crowd I hang out with. But, I will always be someone who was a total dork in school. I have the mentality of an outcast. And I've made career compromises to live in the only city where I feel like I belong.
One of my high school friends is still my closest friend, so her marriage, kids, divorce, well her kid was why I got on Facebook, and it doesn't shock me. While I was a total dweeb in highschool, or worse, for some reason it is 'popular' kids that have been 'friending' me (maybe that's why they were popular? Or maybe because they were popular, they are totally comfortable going up to people they haven't seen for 20 years and asking to be their friend? Deep down, I think it is because I have a picture with a really cool celebrity--a total "A-list"--I don't think most of them would actually want to be "friends" with me, but we'll leave that aside for a moment.) Every single one is married with kids. And they look so old! So much older than me and my friends. I'm not sure if people in big cities take more care of themselves or because we don't have kids or if I'm deluding myself, or if is the gap between how I remember them and how they are now, but I swear they look so much older that I would have thought!
I got a new passport, and obviously the new photo is 10 years older than the old one. But I look better. My old one, I'm wearing a ton of makeup for and I tried to get as pretty a photo as possible (I've always been able to take the occasional good photo, and that's always been very important to my self-esteem). I had to cram this photo in while running errands. No make-up. I have a coat and scarf on. But I look much more comfy in my own skin, and more confident and more attractive. Aside from the blue squiggly lines on my face. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I'm thinner than I was in high school (not that that's saying anything--I was quite heavy in high school). So I certainly seem a cut above where I used to be.
But what's really interesting is that I'm more accomplished than the popular kids from my high school whom I have, to some extent, but proving myself to in abstentia. I realized at my 10th high school reunion (long, long, long ago--I didn't attend my 20th), that I had been trying to prove myself to these people, but I would have very little interest in being friends with most of them now. So how do I let go pushing myself, trying to prove myself? Instead of just enjoying who I am? Maybe if I accomplished what I want to be accomplishing instead of wasting time watching TV. Maybe it is easier to compare myself to others instead of comparing myself to whom I really want to become.
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