I am officially another year older. 24 came faster than a virgin. I don't feel any smarter, any wiser. I feel blindsided and lost; I still feel like a stupid little girl.
I couldn't write for several weeks because I was a little brokenhearted. Shocker there, eh? Surprisingly, I made that move and finally stopped seeing the guy from the post before. YAY ME! It was my choice and it was empowering and I didn't even cry about it. Er, well, I barely cried about it. The sad part is, I only left because I found someone even more amazing and even more worth fighting for. That doesn't seem sad since he was amazing and worth fighting for. But, it's sad that it took me finding someone else to finally close that chapter in my life.
My first date with the new guy was, hands down, the best date ever. I have been on some pretty fantastic dates (also some shittier ones, like I mention in my stand up) but this guy was so unashamedly open, I couldn't resist. Honesty is sexy to me, and we were more than honest with each other. We talked about everything you're never supposed to talk about on a first date. And, we loved it. I will enact this policy of honesty on first dates from now on. There were no surprises about numbers of sexual partners, no guesses on religion or favorite food, no "I didn't realize he was that kind of liberal," moment after our first date. We knew everything about one another that should have scared us off from each other and all we did was make plans for the next morning- after karaoke of course. Best first date ever. I was hooked.
I would like to say I was being dumb and ignoring all the typical signs I have seen before when I fall into these one-sided love affairs. I'm usually the one to initiate phone calls, or texts. Finding time for them was my job and it was obvious I was usually more into him than he me. My fault. I know. I guess I usually just hope for the best. This time it was different.
He called me. He texted me. He made time for me and invited me places and introduced me to people. I kissed him first, but only because I knew it would be a while before we got to see each other again and he was clearly being a pansy about it. I wanted to give him the reassurance he needed to make it work with the distance and time we were about to face. It was so worth it. And he so made the effort. He wanted to meet my friends and he wanted me to stay an extra day when I visited. He wanted me to cook for him and we could just be lazy with no plans and everyone was a happy camper. This time it was different; except it wasn't.
All of that, just to end up in the same fucking situation I am always in: He loves me not.
There was a definitive point in which things changed. I hadn't done anything different and all of the sudden, I was overcome with all of my standard insecurities. Cue my neurotic girl brain jumping into overdrive. Out of no where two days went by without a word from him. Naturally, I overcompensated for his quietus and had a somewhat lengthy conversation with myself via text. I had to get it together, because if there's one thing that's certain, ALL WOMEN ARE CRAZY. The trick is to make all men believe we are the exception to this rule. I had to tone it down.
I let him have his space. But, I knew that we were close enough and comfortable enough for me to ask some questions. After all, our faux pas first date proved to me that we are clearly good communicators. So, I asked. The response has been a point of controversy among me and my friends. Most of the girls all say it's an understandable and reasonable response. The guys all say its a cop out. I don't rightly care which is the truth. What hurts is that I am not enough. He said we couldn't be together because he's not over his ex. Cool. I get that. But, this is an ex from two years ago. I know what it sounds like on the surface. But, as I sat with him on the phone crying (I assured him I am also an intense movie crier), I couldn't help but believe him. There was no reason for either of us to lie to the other. We had been so painfully honest about everything else in our lives, why start lying now?
Take it for what it is, cop out or true struggle, the reality is, I wasn't enough. I wasn't enough to make him get over her, or I wasn't enough to make him want to think of a better excuse than an ex from two years ago haunting his sheets. Whatever the truth, there I was again. For the third time this calendar year alone (a couple the year before), I was in yet another one-sided love affair; the worst kind of love affair.
This man makes me laugh non stop. He is the perfect compliment to my wild, unstructured, unplanned approach to life. He levels me out and brings be back down when I get my head too far in the clouds without any plan. He is one of the most supportive people I have ever met and he consistently encourages me to do what I love but demands a plan of action to do so. He puts everything into perspective for me. He consoles me when I'm sad or overwhelmed. Even better, he makes me feel sexy and wanted and worthy whenever we are together. We can talk for hours about nothing and have said everything we needed to. I feel taken care of and needed in the exact same moment. As simple as it is, it is everything a woman wants to feel. We all want to play the role of best friend and lover. With him I get that.
I want to say "got" not "get" but not much has changed. Remember how much I love to torture myself with hopefulness and listfulness? Oops, I did it again. The cooing and the swooning and the willingness to do anything for him because I foolishly believe that maybe he will come to and realize that I am the one he wants; that I am the one he needs. They never do. I'm only fooling myself. But I will keep trying, because I have to. I have to be absolutely certain he doesn't love me before I walk away. Because, what if this time it's different?
It never is.
- S.
Love and Hugs Babe!
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