Boys are strange creatures, no matter what it is, they're strange. Not just **** but all boys. I know boys that masturbate to shadows, boys that gay but are for some reason not willing to own up to it so they speak down to women, boys that somehow believe that despite the way they are that they are not going to die alone and cranky. All these boys, different people, but all the same in so many ways. They are all weird strange creepy human beings. They are all my friends, of course, but come on, they're strange. They all look at the world so differently and yet so similarly to each other that it weirds me out just to think about it. The funniest thing that gets me chuckling about it all, is how they all believe that they are so different from other people. How they all truly think that they are the exception to the rule. Now, I'm generalizing, packing them all in to a segment and saying they all feel this way, even if a few of them don't, let's be honest, it's easier and quicker for me. Anyway, on to my point; why are men so strange? Why don't they look at the whole picture from other people's point of view a little bit more? I'd like to point out that I'm fully aware that at this point it is basically like the pot calling the kettle black, since I am rarely willing to look at things from anyone else's point of view but my own. But that isn't because I'm unable, it's because I'm unwilling. There's a difference.
This isn't a jab at anyone, especially not ****, who has actually been an awesome boyfriend, despite my complaints. This is a questioning time in my day, where I thought, since I have nothing better to do, I'd type it out. I could, however, go into detail about just how odd and creepy weird **** is, but to do that would be wrong as a lot of those things would be getting into "pillow talk" time, and I'm sure that he has some sort of distorted idea of privacy during that time. So I'll keep that to myself. That said, I have more to get into.
I want a tiffany ring. That's right, I want my boyfriend, who doesn't have a job, who plays Metal Gear 4 for 18 hours and 50 minutes to buy me a ring from Tiffany & Co., I want the "I love you ring", it's $120 plus all applicable taxes, and a $20 delivery fee. I want it to be engraved but unfortunately it's too narrow for the inscription I would want. I was just going to ask for it for my Birthday/Valentine's Day gift, but then my friend Kyle, genius that he is, suggested, well, asked, or whatever, pointed out in his own way that it could be a promise ring. Which in spite of it's corniness, would work, and could get me my damn ring. It's a really cute ring, it has the words I love you in calligraphic writing engraved on the outside going all around it. It's sterling silver, which as we all know, silver is my favourite colour. I get that asking for that ring right now when he doesn't work and is living off his savings, is wrong, and hypocritical since I've been bitching about people taking money from him. But I don't care, I'm a selfish creature by nature, and I've never really learned the trick of thinking of others before thinking of myself. Well, almost never. But explaining the one time that I think of others instead of myself, would be a downer of a topic so let's keep it light. People have that saying, the heart wants what it wants, right? Well, my heart and my head and I want this ring. I want to get a piece of jewellery in a Tiffany & Co. box, I want to be able to keep that little blue box with it's white ribbon, I want to be able to have a piece of jewellery that you keep forever. And hell yes, I want to know that I had a boy that believe that even though he thought spending $120 plus taxes and delivery fees was a lot of money and way more than he would ever think to purposely spend on anything major, he thought and believed that my happiness was worth it. I want to know that he put aside his cheap and frugal ways and bought me my damn ring because he knew that I would wear it everyday, just like this necklace he got me in Prague. Now, I'm going to say something that I haven't really said to many people, I don't actually enjoy wearing a necklace everyday. I know, I know, it's a necklace, it weighs like, nothing. But it gets in my way, it really does. I take it off to shower, to sleep, to fool around, and then I forget to put it back on. Now, I get that to a normal person that wouldn't really be a huge issue, but for **** there kind of is. He wasn't sure I would like the necklace when he got it for me in Prague, he was dragging his feet about giving it to me, he asks it's whereabouts when I'm not wearing it, so it matters to him that I wear it everyday. It's becoming a hassle because I can't wear other necklaces because I feel as though I should be wearing something to represent him, like in those stupid high school drama shows, where the two teens are going steady. The ring would be a perfect replacement.
So everything is going okay, at best. We talk about the future, we argue, we make up, we hang out, we eat, we sleep, we chill, we are, we be. Somehow, I like where we are, and if someone had told me that **** and I would be okay after all the issues I felt we were facing, I wouldn't believe them. Yet, in some way, here we are, and he loves me. Somehow, he seems hopeful of the future, of our future. And for the first time, I'm not all that pessimistic about it, I think we can make it, I believe with effort and a little care, we can do this.
We're moving along at a good pace. He's learning to actually do stuff without the fear that I'm going to get upset that he crossed some sort of an invisible line. He's learned to just say what he wants to say without worry that we'll have an issue over it. We talk a lot to be honest, and I like it, we do strange things that I've always wanted to experiment doing, such as the strange bodily explorations that Cosmopolitan magazine suggests. I'm mean to others, and he's not mean to me. It's odd but I feel horrible when I'm mean to him, so avoid it. I like to tell him things, things I don't want others to know; he does the same. We're building intimacy, getting closer, becoming something. Slowly, but surely, he's gaining my trust.
I'm just going to put it out there, I love him. I like being with him, I care about his opinion, I miss him when he's gone. I want to spend time with him, I sneak out to spend a few hours with him. I like doing stupid things I never liked to do before, like holding his hand, hugging him, texting him during the day, having his arm around me in a movie theatre. All these things, things I never thought I'd actually like to do. But I do like them, I like to hold his hand, I like the feeling of missing warmth when we break hands. I like when he hugs me, then squeezes me as tightly as he can. I like when he brushes his scruff along my neck, and over the back of my shoulders. I like a lot of things, but I'm getting off topic.
We're going to have sex. We have a place to do it, not the perfect place, not the best place, not where I would have imagined it to be, but a place nonetheless. And I'm scared, I am afraid for the first time, of what he will think of me. Not me the person, but my body. I'm not the thinnest of people, I have rather large thighs, and a jiggly stomach. Now obviously, you can see that I'm a bigger girl just by looking at me, but knowing and seeing are two very different things. I don't know what it'll be like the first time with him and that scares me. I don't like the unknown. I know it sounds really horrible, but I want to get him wasted then just do it, to get it over with. That is wrong, right? I avoid being naked, I like to be at least, half clothed. Nakedness is nothing to him, he's so quick to get de-clothed it's like a race against time to see how fast he's willing to get nude; it's insane, but I like it, I find it funny. Strangely enough, every sort of sexual activity we have partaken in, has happen while in the back of his jeep
Now, he doesn't know that this website exists, and I'm sure that if he did, there would be more of an issue then there is with the fact that I tell other people things long before I actually get around to telling him anything. Which, yes, I get, I understand that if he told everyone else something that concerned me, and he told them long before he ever told me, I'd be pissed. But I'm not telling everyone, I'm telling cyberspace; it's not the same thing at all, that and he doesn't know. What people don't know can't hurt them, or make them get angry with me. But in the interest that he never finds out, I'm going to continue to talk freely.
So my father wants me to move out of his house in May, I graduate in April, so it's understandable that I go back to doing what I was doing before. I was living in the city before, and moved back when it got ridiculous to be living out there. All my father is demanding I do is put things back to the way they were. For a long while last year, I moved back last December, I really regretted moving back. I hate my father, I don't actually like being told what to do, and I don't like "Family Dynamics" of sharing, and caring and whatever. I'm a somewhat selfish creature by habit, and I like to depend solely on myself for as much as I can. But looking back on how my life was in the city and the changes that have been put in place since my return to my hometown, I can't make myself look back on my decision and wish for a different one. I have ****, I never would have found him had I not come back. Of course, we've known each other since grade nine, but this summer, in June/July, I looked at him differently. Yes, Nikki will tell you when she really thinks about it, that the only reason **** and I got together was because I was bored. Which, terrible as it sounds, is true. I was bored, I was in search of a boy and there he was. But the more we hung out, the more we talked and chilled; the more I realized that he was what I needed in my life. Stupid and unlike me as that sounds, it's a fact. It's like I subconsciously knew that him and I would be awesome together, and we are.
There was a time when hearing someone say "I love you" would cause me fits of laughter. I would have argued that the same neurological-chemicals that are found in a person "in love" are the exact same as those to a criminally insane mental patient. I would have told the person that the best thing to do, for their sake as well as mine, would be to end the relationship. I still believe that the articles I read were right, but only with certain things. I believe that the chemicals that are found in the brain are the same, now I just believe that it's all in how the individual chooses to handle the influx that matters. I, for instance, have not decided to go on a killing spree, so that would put me in the "Love" bunch not the "Crazy" pile.
Things are good, I want them to stay that way.
So we leave for Ottawa tomorrow morning, and I'm actually rather excited to be going. I have a few concerns, about my getting irritated by **** after a couple of hours, and his gassy issues, and his strange things that he likes to do, like jumping over random shit or laughing at things that remind him of movies that no one's ever seen. **Rolls eyes**
I'm sure we'll be fine, we're talking now, and it's good. We put it all out there, well, I put it all out there, he seems to be content with everything. We're sleeping together in his jeep in a Wal-mart parking lot on this trip. He specifically got this vehicle because of it's ability to be slept in. It's going to be cold, and he's all like "I'll keep you warm" which is sweet to most, I'm sure, but to me, I'm like don't touch me when I'm sleeping.
So we've talked about sex, and it seems as though we're ready to do it. Strangely, I am not willing to have sex in his bunk bed in his very messy, extremely dusty room. I am terrified of having sex in a vehicle of any kind, and this point we are agreed, but for different reasons. He doesn't want a mess of that sort to be in his jeep, and I am scared of having sex in vehicles. Then there's his grungy dirty cold basement, where there's a futon convertible couch, a computer desk and computer stuff, a Nintendo Game-cube and at times when Dance-Dance-Revolution wasn't being played in the upstairs living room; an Xbox.
When he first brought up the idea of sex in his basement, I recoiled at the thought. I still don't exactly like the idea at all. But there is a place and opportunity, and the only thing that is really stopping us from going at it, is me. So I started to wonder, is my hesitance really because of the furniture and the decoration around it, or does it have to do with something else? Does it have something to do with a long founded ideal that you're supposed to have rose petals and candles, or does it have to do with the idea that it's supposed to be done in a special place? **** seems to think that my reasoning makes sense in a girls mind, that the reason I don't want to do it there is because it's not special, and I kept saying that that is not the reason why I'm vetoing the idea, but it really not the reason?
Then I started to ask myself, if my reasoning had more to do with my not really wanting to do it yet, if I maybe felt cornered into doing something I don't actually want to do with **** yet. After quite a while of thought on that idea, I decided that I was/am ready. I want to do it, so maybe I'm putting too much thought on the surrounding area. But then, as I began to settle into that idea, it hit me, I'm scared. I'm worried about what this will mean, if it will mean something, anything at all. I want it to mean something, I want the act to be worth something. I don't want a "wham-bam-thank-you-mam" situation, I want it to be an act of more then "itches needing to be scratched". And now it's out there, it's been said and I don't know that he's rushing or pushing me, but I feel as though I'm taking too long to do this, and I want to get it over and done with, then I think further on it, and I feel as though that is wrong, that I shouldn't want to just "get it over with", I start to think that if that's the way I feel about it, I shouldn't be doing it at this time, that I should wait. As soon as that thought comes into my mind, I start to wonder if this entire line of thought is because I'm scared or if it's actually stemming from somewhere else. If it is stemming from somewhere else, I'm worried about where it's stemming from, and what it could mean.
After all this, I am starting to believe that my excitement for Ottawa, is actually me being nervous, and mistaking it for excitement. Regardless, I'm taking it at face value; I'm excited.
Stay tuned.
It's strange to think, let alone type or say out loud. But it kind of feels like **** gets me a little bit. I've yet to say anything that has shocked him (other than that one time that I told him I was angry at him). He seems totally at ease with everything I say and everything I want to do. To be honest, I think he's too nice to me; I ask for a favour, he comes through. My car breaks down, he's there in 20 minutes. I need a vehicle while mine is out of commission, he hands me the keys to his jeep. I could get used to this.
I'm not really worried for the first time in this relationship. I'm not concerned that the voice in the back of my mind might be right. I know it's just doubt, and that that can be overcome and proven wrong with time. The trust issues are a whole other issue altogether, but people I do trust seem convinced that he's not out to break me.
I don't know that what we have is love, and not something less, lust, but I believe that he's worth the attempt. He's guessing, grasping at straws, and all he needs is for me to throw him a line, drop a hint, and he's pretty much good to go. He seems eager to make me happy, and even more eager to make this work. I want that too, I want this to work, I want us to make it, I want us to be something, but at the same time, I want to be alone.
I liked being single, most of times. It sucks being the third wheel, or having nothing to do on a Friday night. Missing having somebody hold your hand, or put their arm around you at the scary parts in movies. But I did enjoy doing what I wanted, when I wanted, not feeling like there is some sort of obligation to invite someone along. Or being bothered when I haven't seen that person for a few days, bothered that I want to see them so much. It's not something I do, missing people, I don't allow many people that close. The idea of it bothers me, that missing people means that they offer or give me something that others don't. It means they've gotten to me, that I need them in a sense. I prefer to not need people. That's where the fear comes in.
I do need people sometimes, and the few people I choose to need, I also trust. I can't explain the mental process I go through, that allows me to trust one person over another, but to put it plainly, I need to know what they want. What their agenda is. I need to know if what they want is going to directly interfere with what I want, need, etc. I have to feel that in the grand scheme of things, what they want isn't going to directly hurt me in some way.
I don't really know what it is that left me with my trust problems, but I do know that I'm comfortable with them, they're like my security blanket, I feel protected. I'm not ready to let them go yet, but I will be soon. I was told about self-fulfilling prophecies, that if I wanted to believe that **** wasn't trustworthy, that he was out to hurt me, if I kept looking for reasons, I would find them. I want to find them. I want the choice. I want to know and make the choice to either get over it and let it go and move on, or to just move on. It bothers me to not know stuff. I want to know how he could hurt me, why he would hurt me, what the skeletons in his closet are, then I want to make the knowledgeable decision to stay. Right now I'm in the dark.
He gets on my nerves! He's late, he sticks his head out the window and shakes his hair like a dog, he says things like "super cancer", he smiles at me and stares for no apparent reason, and when I'm annoyed by him, he says he loves me. He's always sleeping, or going to sleep, or talking in "car speak" that he knows I don't understand or care to understand. He has friends that annoy the hell out of me, making him kill seagulls, buy them McDonald's when he doesn't even eat there, complaining that he spends too much time with me when we barely see each other.
And yet, all that said, I like being with him. I'm confused by my own head, my own ideas. I don't know what I want from this, from him. I don't remember what I wanted when I started out with him in the first place, but I feel like I'm getting what I wanted. We work, there's an unspoken system that we somehow are able to follow. Strangely, despite my continually saying at previous times, I do believe that he loves me. I believe that he holds my hand because he wants to, that he's not going to rush me, push me into something I don't want to be in or do. I believe he cares about me. The question is what am I going to do about it?
Here's the answer: I'm going to see it through. If we make it to our Vegas Wedding day, then we make it. Otherwise, I gave it a shot, a valiant effort. But in this current state, I'm happy for now.
That's right, I've thought about it, and I've still yet to come to a decision on what to do. Everyone is making it seem like the doubts have no basis, that I should be sure, that I shouldn't question every second of every minute that **** and I hang out. But I do.
I do wonder about every second because not only are there things that I allow to go unsaid, but there's things he holds back. I can see it in his eyes, that he's holding back his thoughts, or his feelings or something. I can feel it. There's something that he's not telling me. I'm sure he feels the same way about me, and I'm not saying it's different, I'm just saying it's there.
I know about my trust issues, I know that they're there. I know it makes it hard to get to know me because I pull back when people get too close. But I can't really get into that right now. Instead, I'm going to touch on why I don't think that **** really likes me. I'm hoping that putting out there, getting it out of my head and onto another platform in a different media, will show me that I'm being silly. At least, I hope that's what's going to happen.
I'm afraid that he's just being nice, despite what everyone says about it being ridiculous, I'm scared that he's just playing the role. I'm worried that he's going to break my heart if I let too close and I'm fearful of allowing him the chance to get to know me. He's athletic, and fit, and muscular, and I'm curvy, and busty, and stumpy. I'm afraid that he sees something in me that isn't there, and that when he finds out that it isn't there, he'll leave running. He's so nice to everyone and sees the best in them. I'm distrustful and believe that people are inherently bad. I'm not exactly the yin to his yang, at least I don't think that I am. I'm worried that there isn't more to us. That there isn't a sexual attraction, and I think that's why I'm pushing for more to happen on the physical side; I need proof. He told his friends that he's a gentleman. That he's not going to ask for anything, or pressure me into anything, that he wants everything to happen in it's time. I get that, I really do. And I think it's sweet, the whole "not pressuring" me thing, it's nice. But I'm not some delicate flower that needs to be taken care of. I'm not some precious girly-girl who can't handle the world or take care of herself. I'd been doing it a long time before he came around, and chances are, I'll be doing it long after he's gone.
I don't depend on people. People let you down, they aren't there when you need them, and they don't know what you need when you need it. What's the saying?: "If you want the job done right, do it yourself"? That's it right? Well, I believe that. I don't think that anyone will know me as well as I know myself, and I think that in knowing that, why waste my time allowing some next dude the chance to screw it up? I don't want him to screw it up. I want him to know me, to like me, hell, to love me. But I don't think I am "loveable" per se. I'd say that I have loveable qualities and traits but that me on a general whole, not loveable. I always hear people, the ones that watch Oprah, saying that to receive love you have to love yourself. I do love me. I'm awesome. But I have, quirks, that people don't always find endearing. I have a major mindset setback. I'm a big girl. I have the self esteem of a big girl.
Don't get me wrong. When it comes to everything else, I'll tell you I'm number one, but with boys, I'll stay in the back and wait. I always think that the boy that claims he likes me, is just saying it to be nice, or on a dare, or whatever you see that happens to the "token fat girl" on television shows. I feel like that girl sometimes, most times. Like the girl that shouldn't eat out in public, the one that shouldn't walk into certain stores because there will be absolutely nothing in there for me to buy that would fit me. The girl that wants people, specifically her boyfriend, to tell her she's pretty. The girl who not only wants to feel wanted, but needs to feel wanted.
I know it sounds silly to most people. I know I'm not ugly. I look at myself in the mirror, and when I'm having good day, it's like "Wow, damn, I'm hot!" but on other days, the not so good ones; where my hair isn't co-operating, my face had a rebel attack, my nose is stuffy, my periods coming. Those days, those are the days I need **** to hold my hand, tell me he loves me and say that he thinks I'm beautiful. But he doesn't do or say that; not at those moments anyways. And I'm left with doubt. Not because he didn't say it at the right moment, but because I feel like we're supposed to be on another level, at a different stage in our relationship, and we're not. We're here.
I asked him if he was asexual. He said no. But it makes me wonder. Does he want me that way? Does he see me that way? Will he? Can he? And yet none of these questions can be answered, without talking to him, and that, that strangers of the internet, is something I'll never do.
It's not that I couldn't say it, it's that it sounds corny, or stupid to say it. So I'm going to put it here.
"****, I have trust issues. I don't believe that you love me. I said/say it back because it was apparent that that's what you wanted. I could mean it, but I don't know if I mean it now. I use it as a way to get things. I say mean things, then I say "I love you" as a way of not getting into a tiff over it. I want something, like a ride to my friend's house in Etobicoke, or a movie ticket, so I say because it seems to help me get what I want. I want to believe you, more than you know, but to be honest, I'm not sure that I do. I've never believed in love before, in high school, I did an entire essay proving that love doesn't exist; none of this has changed my opinion on that. I want to believe that I can trust you, that I can tell you things that I would never have told anyone but Shishi, but I don't believe that. I'm a cynic, I'm negative, I'm not Nature Girl, and you say that that's okay, you say it doesn't bother you. I swear like a sailor on leave, and you say "crud", or "crumbs", you say my swearing doesn't bother you, you say negativity doesn't get to you. You seem so sure, that's what scares me. I'm worried that you're going to wake up one day and you're going to meet that Nature Girl to your Nature Boy, that she won't swear, or wear shoes that can't muddy. And you'll forget about me. I want to trust you, but I don't. Because you could leave, because you could hurt me, because you could lie. You see ****, I care about you, in my own weird little way, you matter. I want to let you in, I want to believe that you'll be here, but that's where the cynic comes out, and says you won't be there. Tells me that you won't catch me, that you can't. So here it is, when it comes to trust. I'm a coward. I'm okay with that. I've never been hurt, and if I continue this way, I never will be. I avoid situations that allow for emotions to take over. I prefer to be rational. I'm sorry."
But after that...
I'd tell him what I need from him. What I need is for him to prove that the cynic in me is wrong. I need him to prove that he'll be there. That he does love me. But there's a small problem, he can't because I need him to just know what to do and he doesn't. I need him to be okay with my trust issues, I need him to just know me. I need him to know when I want him to hold my hand, without my having to tell him, or initiate. I want him to know when I just need him to put his arm around me, and when I need him to shut up. I need him to prove he knows me.
And after he knows me. If he was still there. Still holding my hand. Still said he loved me.
I'd believe him.
I know it's not the most attractive of traits, but I doubt people and things a lot. Yes, I realize it has a lot to do with me, and not as much to do with the people that I'm doubting. Regardless, the doubt is there. Like the ginormous elephant in the room, I doubt **** on a daily basis. There is so much that I question about my relationship. Not in the sense of break-up and run or not, but doubt nonetheless. I like contact, through texts or conversations. I love to talk. Anyone who knows me can testify to that. Texting is the best back-up when talking isn't something I want to do or can't do at the time. I write notes in class, I text in class, I'm all about talking in some form or another. It's what I do.
Either **** doesn't get that, or he's such a polar opposite that texting or calling me doesn't seem like something to do. The further we get into this, whatever it is, the more I see how different we really are. I like to bake and cook for myself. Sometimes to a lazy degree I cook those frozen meals that come in those bags, but he, he lives off canned soup. Who I ask you, who, lives off canned soup?! Can one even really survive properly off that stuff? Like seriously?! Canned soup. Those things have so many preservatives in them and other ridiculous chemicals to keep them from going bad in the can, that when you die they won't need the formaldehyde, you'll keep all on your own.
I can't help but think, how will this work when you don't think to call me, you live off soup, and you pre-order your video games months, that's right months, in advance? How can we survive my annoyance? He's so willing to make me happy, and that's awesome because for 21 years now, I've always been about making me happy. It's never really occurred to me to be overly concerned with the happiness status of other people. I get that that way of thinking and living life is selfish and spoiled, but up until now, no one has ever really questioned my way of life. Until now. Now I want it to be even. I'm trying. I'm attempting to give a little and take a little. To meet the halfway point of it all and try to put my own happiness on the back burner if it makes **** happy. Let me tell you; this won't last long.
Trying to make him happy, my friend and I had bought a pizza about a month ago while in Manhattan. Our plan was to make the pizzas for our boyfriends. We told them to pick out what they wanted on it. In my attempt to make him happy and ignore my inner instincts that scream about me getting mine and screw everyone else, I didn't voice my overly loud opinion when he suggested the following pizza toppings: tomato, bacon bits, garlic, kiwi, chocolate chips, and chicken strips. That is right. I bought all the toppings, the proceeded to put them on the pizza dough that I worked so hard to knead while my friend and our men watched some random Denzel Washington film on TV. The pizza was disgusting. I couldn't eat it. **** ate every bite. He loved it. Which made me happy to know, but I was still annoyed that I trekked around a 12 hour bus ride with this box of pizza, to then have to not eat it because it was gross. But I took one for the team. I've heard that give and take is important, so I'm here trying.
**** doesn't know my issues, he doesn't realize my irritation. He doesn't think about me. At least it doesn't feel that way. He's sweet when we're together but I'm an afterthought when we're not. I've been told to not make him a priority either, and to be honest I'm going to take that advice. I'm going to continue on with my no texting plan (basically not going to text him till he texts me, textation begins only then). He has to start making the first move. I'm through with being the hunter.
A lot of my doubts stem from my weight, to be honest. We're just so different. He's skinny, and athletic, and I'm (I want to say pudgy, but I'm a bit heavier then pudgy), he's always positive, and I'm negative Nancy, he never swears, and I curse like a sailor on leave. Strangely, I want to ask him what he sees in me. This not knowing thing, is getting to me.
I guess I'll stick it out. See what happens. For now. But the doubts haven't left yet. I'll report in the very second they do.
He tells one set of friends one thing, and another set gets told nothing at all. I sit in utter confusion as to what we are, and where we stand. Granted, a lot of that confusion is/was caused by my own doing, but as the things I want become clearer to me, the things he wants become more and more obscured. I feel like I'm sitting in the dark, wondering where the light switch is, and the more my eyes adjust to the darkness and I begin to gain my bearings, the more the room changes. I lost in this relationship (I use that term loosely), there's no precedent to look at for guidance as he's never been in a relationship before this, and I'm not sure he's ready for one now.
He got me a necklace from Prague, said he missed me, says he loves me "when he feels it", and puts his arms around me rather often for someone who claims just to be my friend. I don't treat my friends like that. I keep some semblance of a distance, allow them their personal space; I pretend to at least respect the idea of a bubble to which to keep out unless invited. It doesn't seem like the bubble is there with us, which is fine, but confusing.
I was invited to a family dinner, was introduced to family friends, get hugged every time we see each other, his mother seems to like me, his brother talks to me. All of this would imply there is something there, but yet, he told his best girl friend (it's platonic, she's a lesbian), that we broke up. I'm lost in this maze of trying to figure out this boy's head, and I'm getting tired of the apparent mind games. It's exhausting wondering where we stand, what we are, what he wants us to be, what I want us to be. Seeding through what I know he's saying to me to make me happy, and what he might actually mean. To be clear, I know he says, or at least tries to say what he thinks I want to hear, because he always asks, or says, "I hope that's right.". I don't want to hear what I want to hear unless he means it. I don't want to be told what I want to hear if it doesn't ring true, if it's not true, then telling me it is mean. Whether or not he means it to come off that way, it is mean. I don't like this feeling of not being able to trust my basic instincts.
We began this whole "Friends with Options" thing because I wasn't ready for a relationship, and neither was he at the time. We agreed to not digress and to not progress until a later date, which I had said I would approach in September, after 2.5 weeks of travel would allow us both the space apart to see where we're at in it all. My issues were dealt with, my problems were resolved. He texts me, he calls, he remembers; problem dealt with. I dealt with my own personal demons in the relationship field, tackled the idea that I was doomed to be forever single, and looked into the idea that he isn't out to hurt my feelings and break my heart. I'm ready now, I'm ready to take the chance that this is something that could really work. I truly believe that. I really do think that if we continue to progress at this stage, we continue the communication and the physical aspect (**giggles**) of it all, that this could really be something, that we really could have found it; whatever it is.
I just don't know where we stand. Why certain things have happened if other things are the way they are. I'm lost to understand why the feeling I have is still there, that we are more than friends but less then boy/girlfriend. Here's the thing, I want a real relationship, I want that "I can talk to you about anything, I feel 'safe' with you, my friends like you, we see bad movies together, make other people feel uncomfortable at times" relationship. I couldn't put my finger on what I wanted before, and now that I've figured it out, I'm scared that asking for it will scare him off. I'm worried that since I was never into the "high school" relationship thing when I was in high school, and the fact that he's never had a girlfriend before, will be pitted against each other, and I'll end up getting hurt. I know there's that whole saying "Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game." but I'll say this about that. I'm a coward. There, I've said it. That's right, I, Yvonne Guylaine Wright, am a coward when it comes to dealing with boys. The more I like him, the more afraid that I'm going to scare him away, and sadly in that fear, I end up pushing him away. Ironic.
I'm a different person when I'm with him. It's not like before, when him and I were just starting out, and I didn't recognize myself. I know this girl, I remember her at least. I understand the random thoughts and where they come from now. I understand now that the thoughts were my own, they were me, the issue was the tone they took; it was a tone I hadn't heard that often; it was quiet comfort. Happiness. I'll be honest, while I was in Cuba I couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop wishing that I was back in Canada, so that I could be heading to Manhattan so that I would be heading home to see him sooner. Then, in Manhattan, it was the opposite. I made a Pro/Con list with Gabby and Nikki. I tore apart my relationship, and I tore him down (which is fundamentally wrong, I know, but I'm not a nice person, so..), but here's the thing, while tearing him down, while stating things that made him flawed to the normal girl, I had an epiphany. I realized that those things, those perceived flaws, problems that regular super-happy girls would work to alter, to change, to fix, those things are the reason I like him. They're the reason we work, they allow us to be completely non-judgemental of each other, on his part at least. I'm trying to not be as judgemental as I have been in the past, but it's difficult, change comes slow, or so I've heard.
I know exactly what I want to say to him. I have it prepared in my head. I'm ready. But then he's there, in front of me, beside me, holding my hand, putting his arms around me, and I think: "I don't want to ruin this moment by asking all these questions.", so I say nothing. I keep it all to myself, and complain to my friends about it in the mean time. I want to ask him all these questions, I want to clear my head of all these worries, I want him to want the same thing I want, I want him to tell me that he wants the same thing I want, but most of all, the main thing, I don't want to have to be the first one to say all this; I want him to take the leap and take the lead. All the while that this is on my mind, he seems content to play Halo 3 or whatever it is the boys with Xbox 360 are playing nowadays. He got me a necklace, which proves I'm not an afterthought, but he told one of his two best friends that we broke up, and I don't really know what that says.
The question shouldn't be "when will I tell him all this?" but more along the lines of "what will I do if he doesn't want the same things as me?". Do I walk away? Do we end it? Can we still be friends after all this?
Will post the news, good or bad, when it comes in.
We all have these things that go unsaid. Sentences moving 'round in your head. Things that you swear you'll say later, but never do, because the moment passed and took your courage with it. Questions go unanswered, issues unresolved; because for me, well, I'm afraid of ruining the mood with questions. Such as: "What do you mean when you say you love me?" or "While I'm in New York, can you like, not become 'Friends with Options' with other girls?".
Things like that just haunt you, and while outside sources can look in and tell you that the best thing to do is to confront it, I'm a coward. I just spent a great day with **** and on the way home, I could have asked him the question about love, I could have explained to him that the word doesn't mean the same thing to me when I say it or hear it, as it does to others. I could have told him all about the homeless man I hugged and said those 3 little words to, but I didn't. Instead, I said nothing about it. I didn't want to ruin our awesome day with things that might seem trivial, or stupid, or just might hurt his feelings. I wanted today to be a great day, and nothing else. So I said nothing. I kept my mouth shut.
I leave for Cuba this coming Friday, I'm very excited for my vacation, all paid for, just free fun for me. I'm sad because while I'm gone, **** leaves for Prague, and when I return, he still doesn't return for another 3 days, and on his date of return, I head out on a bus, to Manhattan. Then, on the day I come back, he's already gone to North Bay or Barrie, one of the two, to visit friends. So for 2 weeks, I will not see my Optioned Friend, may not hear from him, and technically, I leave him single and free reign out and find other women to date or do whatever. Now, I'm not saying I will, but chances are that I'll miss him, and I would really like to know that he misses me too. Problem is, I don't usually miss people, I actually tend to avoid that very thing, all the time, it's like the plague.
- When you miss people, it implies that the person you miss gives you something that no one else gives you. It says that you have a reliance of some sort on this person and that in some strange way this person technically has a way to hurt you, whether they or you, yourself, are even aware of it. It shows you have dependencies on others. Never do that.
I can't say what it is exactly, but I miss him when he's not around. I like to talk to him, I like hugging him, hanging out with him, sitting in silence with him. I enjoy his fun take on life; and his fresh outlook on everything. It's a change of pace from my regular: Hate the World routine. I like that as odd as I am, he's strange too, and it compliments me. I like that I spent a day with my nieces, my friend Gabz and him, and he didn't once complain, and actually said he was having fun. I love the fact that he gave my youngest niece an under-doggy on the swing, and got down to her level to be a child with her; to get to know her. I like that he made the effort. I love/hate the idea that my mother and him share the same bad musical taste, but I love/hate the fact that they were able to have a conversation, and it didn't feel awkward.
I never thought I would see the day, but yet I did; it was today. It was a great day. We have great times when we're together, and it's awesome, and I'm trying not to ruin it or drown it with my worries, but I'm worried. I'm scared that if we don't get that first kiss out of the way, it'll effect us later, I'm terrified that after all this, when I come back in September from Manhattan and school starts, that **** won't want the same things I want. I worry over the idea that even if he does want the same things I do, that if we try to get it, what we have now will be lost.
Instead of voicing any of these, sometime admittedly insecure thoughts, I keep them to myself when I'm with him. I tell others of my fears and still worry when I feel they don't understand my concerns. I worry that I'm incapable of believing in love, and am unable to have a relationship with someone since I generally don't actually trust people. I worry that I like him more than he likes me, and that I care more about this (whatever it is) than he does. I worry that if I let him in, let him really in, that I'll get my heartbroken. Aside from all that, I'm scared. I'm scared of becoming one of those girls. Those girls that I always pitied in real life, in reality shows, in TV shows. The ones that cried and cried and cried over some boy that just woke up one morning and decided that he liked someone else, or didn't like you anymore. I never understood them, to say the least, I never really got the idea of letting someone get that close you. There are very few people in the world, that can actually say that they know me. Shishi, my mom, Kizza, and a few others, but very few make the list. I don't really understand those people that get burnt by the fires of friendship then seem to go crawling back for more. But I seem to see that if you don't trust someone you can never actually go further into a relationship, that you'll always be in the beginning stages because to go further some trust needs to be established. So I'm proud to say that I've taken the plunge, I've told **** the truth that very few people know.
But now onto my new issue. Is it wrong to say "I love you" back to **** just because maybe one day you might really mean it? Is it wrong to misrepresent your feelings to spare someone else's? Is it better to find out if it bothers him that I don't say it back first? Then say it? I guess I'll have to think this part through. Oh well. We'll see how it goes.
I've always prided myself on being content as I am. I like this cute boy. He says he likes me too. We both like to be single. I enjoy the single life. I can't really explain it, because some people don't actually get it. They don't understand how I could enjoy life as a single person. So I'm going to try to clarify it all out, for those reading and for myself.
It's not that I don't like hanging out with **** but I like being free to do what I want. I like being a social butterfly or being a recluse. I like not feeling any obligation to a single person. If I'm in a group of people, all of them my friends, and they may not all know each other, but I like not having the feeling of obligation, of not having to make anyone feel comfortable. I like being able to just be chill, and do what I want when I want, with whomever I choose.
Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying those in relationships don't also have that freedom, but I want something more from my relationships. I want that person that is a friend when you're with friends, a boyfriend when it matters, and a great mixture of both all the time. I want someone that flows into my life seamlessly, without any real effort on either of our parts. But it goes further than that. I want proof; proof that when he says he misses me that he really does. How, you ask? By texting me, to show that he thought of me. Nothing corny, like a text that actually says "I miss you", cause that shit will get irritating FAST, but a text to start a conversation, a text that says something funny that they thought I'd find funny too. Just a comment in a text that can say anything, and I'll know that I was on their mind. That's what I want.
That, and more. I want someone that makes me smile, laugh, and who I feel comfortable with. I want to be able to speak my mind, and have an intellectual conversation. I want someone that understands or at least pretends to understand, where my heads at most of the time. Someone that would get along with my friends, and not try to change them or me. Someone who understands that I freak out a lot in my head, over-analyze everything, swear like a sailor,
Here's the problem. I found that person. I found **** and he seems to get me. He makes me laugh, smile, and he likes to test drive cars with me. He seems to put up with my randomness, and we, so far, have been able to have real conversations about real stuff. He said he missed me a couple of times, and we hang out on a fairly regular basis. His friends aren't like mine, but they're pretty awesome people, my friends would like him, and I'm sure since he likes everyone, he'd like them.
So here I am, with a cute boy that claims he likes me, and we're friends with options. I'd like to put it out there that it was my brilliant mind that led us to the path of "Friends with Options", but now, as we begin the countdown for both of our departures; I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. This worry that while he's away in Prague, he might find a girl in the Czech Rep. that may share the same interests and who's more girly than I am, and who enjoys laughing like a ditz and maybe, if he's really hit the jackpot, she'll even like to pee in groups and talk to the group while doing the deed.
It's the not most attractive quality, I'll give you that, but, I do wonder, all most all the time; what does he see in me? Without coming off as cocky, or self-absorbed; I am a pretty awesome person. But strangely, I seem to like boys with whom I have nothing major in common. Yet, we have minor things in common, like the enjoyment of test driving cars, random road trips, Modest Mouse, and Cake. Let us not forget, Aqua as well. But while Nature Boy and City Girl seem as if opposites attract, I wonder if it's enough. However, I've noticed that as usual, I've gotten off track with what this post was actually supposed to be about. I digress.
**** has said a couple of times that he loves me. Although, to the rational person that I put forth daily, I have ruled out the existence of love. I immediately reacted in a rational albeit bitchy manner:
- Assumed he wanted something
- Decided he wasn't getting whatever it was he wanted
- Closed my eyes, went to sleep
For days after the first event, it was in my head:
- What did/does he want?
- Does he expect me to say it back?
- What does he mean?
But there is other side, this girly mind in my head, that is made happier by the statement that he loves me.
I'm so confused about what I want from all this, but where the title of this post comes from is about to be seen. This, these dilemmas are on my mind consistently. Which is a nice relief from where my head is usually at, but nonetheless, it's ridiculous. I am an educated intelligent young woman with opinionated points of view, and yet, my head is all over each and everything that is said and done within the confines of **** and I. Is this what it's like to be a girl at this point in time? To be overly-infatuated by a boy? Really? I escaped high school with no more then a slight issue with class attendance, and some minor trust and memory problems. Anyway, now, my head is always curious, wondering, pondering, worrying, MAKE IT STOP.
I like **** just fine, we laugh, talk and have a good time, but this new, think about him, miss him, worry about our status.. BULLSHIT, needs to stop. Not only is it annoying to me and an affront to my general intelligence, but it's beginning to really get on my friends nerves, since they are almost all guys, or tom-boy-ish girls.
So now, here I sit, quite literally confused about what to do about my dilemma, if you can even really call it that.
