the view from here

All I can hope for is someone to love me. I want that love to be as I imagine it-- a little bit selfish, but undying; all mine, committed and proven; safe, but not the easy way. I want him to be who I call on my way home for the night, although I need not spend every night with him. I want the honeymoon phase, but I want it to last the rest of my life, not just a really intense 3 weeks of perfection. For all normal purposes, I have unreasonable standards.

I just want someone to say to me... 

I tested the grass on the other side. It was a let down. I remembered what it was like to be ignored and to battle for passive attention. I want the attention to be mine, all mine, all the time. I don't like having to fight for it. And knowing I've been passed off to a wingman is just not something I can handle. I need the alpha, and I need to know that I'm the alpha. But there is something to be said for hopping to the other side. It is a potent reminder of how wonderful your side is.

I'll always be there when you wake... 

As far as I can tell, he wants me. He wants to love me in a somewhat selfish way, that is mostly for me but entirely for him. He is happy to see me, to talk to me, to know me. He might even need me if he'd let himself think so. (And he won't. I wouldn't. Can't blame him.) We are both stubborn and self-assured. We both want to be right, and we both win our arguments. We should clash instantly, but he lets me slide for being me. He likes me for being me. Me. This is new and unusual ground. I'm talking more about myself than about him. I'm more challenged by his appreciation for me than by his disregard for me. It is new territory. He likes me more than I like him. But every glance to the other side reminds me that I like him more than I admit that I do.

So stay with me and I'll have it made. 

Whether I want to admit it or not, I have really hit something good here. Now lets all put our heads down and pray that I don't fuck it up.
I have such a tendency to fuck things up.
L

*Lyrics from Blind Melon's No Rain 

prepare for the let down

Wanna feel bad about yourself?
No?
How about feel great for 20 minutes, pumped, excited, invigorated, psyched about all the potential there is in the world and your future?
Yes!
Okay. That followed by feeling bad about yourself?
Eh, sure.
GO TO THE MOVIES.

It is entirely too common for me to leave a movie theater feeling unbelievably good about life. I call my mom and thank her for being so amazing. I call friends and tell them how awesome I think they are and how much fun I have with them. I promise myself I will finish my projects. I promise other people that I will finish projects. Not by some future deadline, no, I will do it today! I'm on it! I'm feeling GREAT about life!
And then I get home, sit in front of the TV, and realize that the chick in the movie did amazing things in a 2 hour time span, and in the next 2 hours all I will accomplish is maybe finishing what's left of my movie-large diet coke.

Moral of this story is don't get too sucked into the movie-excitement. They play those songs that get you feeling feelings and promising promises, and dammit, you didn't make $200,000 like the chick on screen did. You paid at least $5.50. Enjoy the psych, but save some diet coke for the let down. It's hard to handle both losing your sense of impending accomplishment and running out of soda.

Trust me. I promise.
L

punching people in supermarkets

I talk a lot. But when it matters, I do not talk enough. Instead, I act out in my own special ways. I feel like I'm out of control. Okay, I have command over my living situation. Over my money. Over my job. But the issue is that I have no control at all over what I say under the influence of affection. I have no control over myself when faced with monogamy. I'm up, and I'm down, and I'm happy, and then I'm all over the place. And since I have no apparent outlet for the fear welling up in my mind, I rebel wherever I can find the opportunity. 

But I love you more than words can say

I can't count the reasons I should stay  

It seems entirely too possible that the reason I can't trust anyone is because I don't think I could trust myself. I don't mean to hurt anyone, but I end up punching people in supermarkets far too often. (It's a metaphor. Root: Parenthood. Watch it on Tuesday nights.) I can't find a way to rationally express the fear/anxiety/weakness I have in and around relationships, so I subconsciously try to sabotage them. I don't realize what I'm doing, or I do and I don't do anything about it. But if I'm fighting it, then maybe it is meant to be fought. 

I can't count the reasons I should stay 

One by one they all just fade away

This time I'm not going to be able to fight my way out. He has waited for me. And he will wait for me. And he is genuinely interested in being committed to me. Me. And I'd be lying if I said that was easy to understand. That puts on a lot of pressure. It is a wonderful thing to be reminded that I'm worth something to someone, but all that build up makes the fall so much further when I mess it up. I have to be better than myself. I have to be stronger than myself, more capable than myself, more reliable than myself. He knows me, he knows me well, and he puts up with my idiosyncrasies. No questions asked. Generally when I screw up, he smiles like he knew it was coming, kisses me and says something reassuring. Because he does know its coming. He does know me. So he has to know I'm having trouble with all this. But for the life of me I don't know how to put it into words. 

I've got to figure it out. And stop trying to ruin everything good that happens. 

One by one they all just fade away

But I love you more than words can say 

I can't just go around punching people in supermarkets. 

L

*Lyrics from The 88's At Least It Was Here

if, then

I had a conversation with someone at work the other day about girls who feel the need to check their man's text messages. My overall feeling is that if you need to check their texts, there is no trust, and the relationship is over. Done and done.

In high school, I checked texts. I moderated phone calls. I was that girl. 

And that relationship ended in a long, drawn out, overly public, powerfully painful way. My ignorance to the importance of trust led me into years of crying myself to sleep-- which led to some really excellent writing, but thats another discussion. 

With J, I did not check texts. I was suspicious once, and that passed. Trust prevailed.

And that relationship ended in one quick blow followed by 2 uncomfortable weeks of packing and uncertainty. We were a rock in the trust category, but it still ended up down the drain. (Interesting that our break up took place in a bathroom? I don't think I've ever fully thought about how funny that location choice really is.) 

Checking a text on C's phone is what ended our official relationship. It would have ended no matter what I found; the fact that I worried enough to check was reason enough to end it. But I found something I didn't want to. 

And that relationship officially ended in a splash of tears. Yes, we dragged out the together-not together saga for a year after, but the titles on the relationship dropped that night. If I don't trust you, there can't be any title that says I do.

So far we've learned that whether or not I check texts, the relationship ends. As a general rule, the relationship lasts longer when I do not check texts. Trust is a solid foundation. 

And now I'm in the beginning of a situation: Tonight, just for a minute, I wanted to check. I didn't, and I'm not going to; nothing is that important. But I worry that there is something there. I worry because I know for a fact that I sent him texts at one point that were a worry for someone else. And if my texts were reciprocated then, what's stopping him from answering someone else's similarly relationship-threatening texts now? 

If once, then always. 

Once, always. 

Done and done. 

L

sleepless

I think I'll know when I find 'the one'- or at least the next real thing- when I stop thinking of C as I'm trying to sleep.
(Until then, thank you for giving me such difficult sleep cycles. It certainly is hard to get to sleep while I'm thinking about missing you, but the dreams are awfully wonderful.)
Sweet dreams.
L

freaks come out at night

Halloween on a Sunday means 3 days of Halloween. Friday: work Halloween, club/dancing Halloween. Saturday: day 1 Halloween hangover, party Halloween, pub crawl Halloween. Sunday: day 2 Halloween hangover, football Halloween, children's Halloween.

I dislike so much about this holiday. I strongly dislike the word Halloween (possibly because I've typed it so many times in the past minute?). But mostly I've just always hated being scared. This whole holiday is about embracing fear-- walk into a maze made of thick wheat where no one can hear me scream or find me to help? sure! go into a dark house where nightmares jump out at me in an effort to make me cry? of course!!-- and I'm just not the type to go along with that. But, I am not the one to fight a good time. I celebrated the holiday this year, like most, with the best of them.

I faced quite a few fears Saturday. 3 were noteworthy:

1. My costume. I dressed as my worst fear. I was a very subtle, non-threatening version of said fear, but I did it. I made myself into a dinosaur. And wouldn't you know it, as I'm walking down the steps from my front porch, my first official act after putting on my dino-sweatshirt and dino-shoes was my misguided step onto a snail. Killed the poor thing. Really just reaffirmed my fear- dinosaurs will kill anything smaller than them. Fear faced, and still firmly in place.

2. Talked to C. I haven't talked to him in about 2 months. I let him fall off my radar, and I fell off his. For the better, as you'll all agree, since that relationship was literally drug-like. Early in the night, a bar was showing a movie that was one of C's favorites. I texted him to say hi, and that his movie was on. We chatted on and off the rest of the night. I am proud to say that I did NOT get into a cab to go see him. I did NOT invite him over. I did NOT ask him what he was doing later, tomorrow, this week, ever. And I don't feel like I need to. I had a friendly, platonic, non-confrontational interaction with one of the loves of my life. Fear faced, and conquered.

3. Commitment issues, like whoa. I scare easy, in the corn-maze way and the relationship way. This weekend brought it out in me. I was looking for sneak exits in every establishment. Never took a sneaky way out, stayed with who I was there with, but WOW did I feel my mind scoping for escape routes. (Maybe that is what urged me to text C in the first place?). BUT I didn't run. Still here. Shaking in my boots and definitely more a flight risk now than ever before, but still here. Fear faced, and acknowledged.

To summarize: I'm afraid of dinosaurs stepping on me. I can still love C, but not be a raving lunatic clamoring for his attention. The thought of being tied to anyone makes me literally want to run away.

Facing fears doesn't always mean conquering them. Unfortunate, cos I'm just going to have to keep facing them until they go away.
Maybe just once a year, though.
L