Of course solidly coupled-up friends and wedded pals are thrilled to get some details. They want to live vicariously through your first dates and "falling in like" stages, though secretly they're just glad you're about to join them in the monotony that is monogamy. Misery loves company. Couple friends don't REALLY want to hear about how happy you are because living vicariously through your first dates and your "falling in like" only serves to remind them how far they are from that place and leaves them feeling disgruntled and picking the "why don't we _______ anymore?" fight. ("And I never wanted anyone to say to me 'how come you never take me to the airport anymore?'"--name that movie!). On the other hand, single friends don't want to listen to you talk about how happy you are because they take it as you rubbing it in their faces and as a sign of your imminent departure from their light 'n lively lives to the dark side of Coupledom.
(The few, the proud, the Married)
Luckily for everyone though, things with 2 appear to be juuuuust about completely unraveled; so here I sit before you...alone in bed in a tshirt, phone not making a peep, propped up on a million pillows, blogging away with my teeny tiny violin playing in the background. So, to be trite, "here I go again on my own."
My mom says that often times we have a way of scaring off that which we most want and/or attracting that which we most fear. Now, I don't know if I'm quite dysfunctional or perceptive enough to pull that off, but there must be some truth to it if my mom says it...though on second thought, this is the same woman who told me Isaac Hayes was dead in 2005 (he did not, in fact, pass on until about three years later) and that my doctor had retired (he is still very much hard at work), so maybe she doesn't know everything. Regardless. This just might be the situation at hand. I will attempt to write for the next 10 minutes or so, so that I can finally clear my head and perhaps, just maybe, get some sleep (in lieu of lying awake upset) for the first time since Saturday. Trust me, I'm exhausted.
I'm tired of getting emotionally invested in men who then freak out. So, this time unfortunately, I freaked out. Me and my big. stupid. mouth. I don't know if I did the right thing or not, but there is a distinct possibility, if I'm being completely honest with myself, that I cut-and-ran on Sunday night before 2 would have a chance to do that to me down the road. I think I was/am so scared of getting hurt again that I didn't want to give him an opening to do the same. Yes, I know this is completely ridiculous, nevertheless it might not make it untrue. I was afraid that after a few great months together he'd forget all the things he said to me in the beginning (the "I've never found anyone like you befores", the "I've never felt like this about anyone elses", and the ever-classic "I could picture myself marrying yous") and just get scared. And leave me. So, to prevent the blues I felt post-EB, I might have forced Fate's hand.
But who knows? I mean the whole point of Fate is that she deals things out in the order and at the pace in which they are meant to be received. Was it fate for me to tempt Fate?
Last night, Monday, I called 2 and tried to explain to him what I might have been/am feeling. Laid some of my faults on the table-- I know I'm not perfect-- and just got the rest of my idiocy off of my chest. And you know what his response was? To paraphrase, it was something along the lines of "I don't know...what you said last night might make sense. You do deserve everything you want; I could give those things to you too if I was in the right place, but I'm not sure my mind and heart are connected right now. I need time to think." And alas, that which I was most afraid of-- another goodlooking, successful, funny, nice, intelligent New York man would shy away from commitment-- I have indeed brought upon myself.
And to think we had this conversation on the heels of viewing Hot Tub Time Machine. Way to be a buzzkill, self.
My mom says that often times we have a way of scaring off that which we most want and/or attracting that which we most fear. Now, I don't know if I'm quite dysfunctional or perceptive enough to pull that off, but there must be some truth to it if my mom says it...though on second thought, this is the same woman who told me Isaac Hayes was dead in 2005 (he did not, in fact, pass on until about three years later) and that my doctor had retired (he is still very much hard at work), so maybe she doesn't know everything. Regardless. This just might be the situation at hand. I will attempt to write for the next 10 minutes or so, so that I can finally clear my head and perhaps, just maybe, get some sleep (in lieu of lying awake upset) for the first time since Saturday. Trust me, I'm exhausted.
I'm tired of getting emotionally invested in men who then freak out. So, this time unfortunately, I freaked out. Me and my big. stupid. mouth. I don't know if I did the right thing or not, but there is a distinct possibility, if I'm being completely honest with myself, that I cut-and-ran on Sunday night before 2 would have a chance to do that to me down the road. I think I was/am so scared of getting hurt again that I didn't want to give him an opening to do the same. Yes, I know this is completely ridiculous, nevertheless it might not make it untrue. I was afraid that after a few great months together he'd forget all the things he said to me in the beginning (the "I've never found anyone like you befores", the "I've never felt like this about anyone elses", and the ever-classic "I could picture myself marrying yous") and just get scared. And leave me. So, to prevent the blues I felt post-EB, I might have forced Fate's hand.
But who knows? I mean the whole point of Fate is that she deals things out in the order and at the pace in which they are meant to be received. Was it fate for me to tempt Fate?
Last night, Monday, I called 2 and tried to explain to him what I might have been/am feeling. Laid some of my faults on the table-- I know I'm not perfect-- and just got the rest of my idiocy off of my chest. And you know what his response was? To paraphrase, it was something along the lines of "I don't know...what you said last night might make sense. You do deserve everything you want; I could give those things to you too if I was in the right place, but I'm not sure my mind and heart are connected right now. I need time to think." And alas, that which I was most afraid of-- another goodlooking, successful, funny, nice, intelligent New York man would shy away from commitment-- I have indeed brought upon myself.
And to think we had this conversation on the heels of viewing Hot Tub Time Machine. Way to be a buzzkill, self.
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