Time Crapsule

I found something hiding in my Facebook "Notes" section just now ... something that I didn't remember writing, something that I never finished and never published. It appears to have poured out of my head less than a week post-breakup in 2009 in the wee small hours of the morning. Interestingly, I call it a "time capsule" because, wow, it is just that. Who is this girl who thought that relationships were "real work" and who beat herself up for making bad choices instead of honoring and celebrating what had gone right?

It's these kinds of things that make me cringe when I go back and read old blog entries here. And yet, I'm posting this previously unpublished one anyway, even though it's unfinished ... or especially because it's unfinished. I think some part of me deep inside told me to "stop" right there. Just leave it. It speaks to me on a new level because of that, which makes me smile. I was tuning into something better, even if I didn't yet know it :)

Head Over Heels (Hurts More When You Land)
Friday, July 10, 2009 at 4:17am

I know what you're thinking... you're thinking, "Oh, great. Not another weepy, whiny blog about feeling jilted and alone?" And if that's the case, you're right... that's all it will be for you. But for myself, I see this as a time capsule moment, full of insight that I'll put out of my mind later, that might actually help keep me from making the same mistakes again, should I not force them from my noggin. I know that a few months down the road, I'll be able to look back at things from a clearer perspective and feel just fine... or mostly fine... so why not just pretend like things are already fine and skip the tiresome woe-is-me yarn?

If you've gotten this far and are feeling that you're wasting your time here, please surf away to somewhere else. If any of you have a morbid curiosity about broken hearts or are experiencing one yourself and thus can relate right now, please continue to read further.

Sometimes it feels like my life has been one long, never-ending country song... especially my romantic life. And my whole life of late is the worst, bluesiest, moaniest country song there ever was. "My man treats me so bad. My dog done died. My man's dog treats my other dog so bad. My man done gone, but at least he took his stupid dog. My baby daddy don't pay." Okay, maybe that last one is from a hip hop song. Hmm... they're really not that different in terms of genre content, now that I think about it...

Anyway, in affairs of the heart, I've got no one to blame but myself, I know that. Tonight, I actually went back and re-read some old instant messages from December 2007 just to see if all the signs were there... to see if my subconscious was throwing up red flags about my then new suitor and if that suitor was throwing out his own red flags. Guess what? They were all there... all the things that we ended up fighting about for the last year. Well, most of them anyway. I even brought up my masochistic penchant for man-children!

What's not there is how or why he came into my life at that time. He failed to tell me in any of our night after night of long messaging that his previous girlfriend had only just moved out of his apartment not two weeks before he first contacted me. When I asked "how long had it been," he responded with "It was official several months back, but it was really DOA." Of course, I was asking when they broke up, not when they started dating... but his reply was only answering when it started. I think we were about a month or so into dating before his statements about things with her made me say, "Let me get this straight... you were still living together two weeks before contacting me?" He swore that it had been longer, but when I showed him on a calendar, he had to admit it really was that short of time.

Why would that matter? Well, for starters, I have this thing against anyone jumping from one relationship to another. I've learned from my own experience and from plenty of others that you need to come to a full stop before exiting the vehicle. It's also a good idea to stretch your legs and get a sense of your bearings before you jump into the next ride.

Maybe "ride" is the wrong word.

What I do know are there are serial monogamists out there who go from one relationship to another to another without looking around them, without living with their own self for a while... alone. People who find that concept frightening, perhaps because they rely on other people to keep them distracted from their own sad state or to keep from really working on their own issues. These people are also doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again, always blaming their partners.

I'm not one of those people, but I do blame myself for picking the wrong match. This was such a case. I failed to do my research and allowed myself to get caught up in the full distraction of it all... and it was a great distraction for a while. Bounding through full-tilt, pure pleasure living -- food, alcohol, sex, fun -- is addictive. You find yourself wanting more, more, more. But when the dust settles (along with those hormones) and the real work of the relationship sets in, sometimes you realized that you have far more than you bargained.

My extra bargain came in the form of a possible personality disorder called "Borderline Personality Disorder" or BPD. I had looked into the similar face of mood swings once before, in the form of a fast-talking, over-achieving, bouncy Puerto Rican man from the Bronx. It was a dizzying ride in which I just found myself trying to hang on due to all of the emotional 180s that he kept pulling. This time the emotional roller coaster took the form of a bearded satyr with a an alarming temper from Staten Island. (Not sure if there's something in the water there, New Yorkers, but you folks might want to consider drinking the bottled stuff!)

Next time on The She-Creature Speaks: My vagina monologue.

Distance Over Time

Ideally, I thought last week's conversation would have gone much better than it did. I didn't expect him to get angry with me, especially given that I didn't list any other reasons or issues that went into my decision. I just needed not to have all the scuttling around and planning and stuff, or at least I needed to know he was going to definitely move here if I was going to invest anymore (neurotic) time in all that scuttling and planning and stuff. I knew there could be tears, but I thought they'd be more like, "I'm more determined than ever to find a way to make this work for us" tears than, "I guess this is goodbye" tears. Maybe I've seen too many chick flicks. Or maybe he's seen too few.

Less than a week after our talk, however, there was no continued talk of being together someday; instead he was already putting himself back on the market. I know guys who swear by "the best way to get over someone is to get under (or over) someone else" philosophy, but I guess it just surprises me most with this one. He seemed ... I dunno, different.

Of course, again, I never expected his anger about this either, especially not with me telling him that I still loved him and calling him by my pet name for him, which cutely turns his name into something that sounds like "adorable" ... and I'm not even good with pet names! They usually come about from sounds that I like to string together that remind me of the person I'm dating ... and considering that I've tended to date cartoonishly zany guys, the pet names get pretty amusing, too (i.e. Donkey Bundle).

This beau was far too sober and innocent seeming for that, however. Although cartoonish in his own way (think more Chuck Jones, less Tex Avery), happily bipping along with a "doo dee doo dee doo" at any given time, "adorable" was always the impression that resonated with me. I guess I didn't expect something so "adorable" to have such sharp teeth, and to use them to bite me in the end, so to speak. Well, okay ... it was really just more of a growly nip, but unexpected nonetheless.

Maybe I should have seen that coming? I had been getting lots of subtle hints over the last couple weeks that he might be annoyed with me... that I was disappointing him somehow. Even the cartoony way he would sweet talk me often had a patronizing air to it, along with the strangely sing-songy, high-pitched way he'd started saying, "I love you, too," but only after I said it first. It was weighing on me a bit, and the more annoyed he seemed with me, the less I felt inclined to change it.

Feeling back into it, I now realize I was dating myself ... or a version of myself, when I was less aware of how inadvertently challenging I might sometimes have been to date ... maybe even a bit of a buzzkill on occasion.

My past is riddled with "life of the party" guys who exude fun ... or, who at least are more extroverted than myself and not afraid of being openly silly in public (sometimes those guys have been alcohol-dependent, but not usually). Basically, I was always the Abbott to their Costello ... bringing the happy fun time down a notch when it would get too outer limits.

Why would I suddenly find myself on the receiving end of that kind of judgment? Well, this dating experience was more sober ... more "mature" in many ways ... than the other guys I'd gravitated to before, and in the years since my seriously studious grad school days (and especially since my last zany boyfriend experience), I've been learning to let go more and more. In that letting go, I've become more like those guys I've always been drawn to -- it's a pleasant side effect.

For instance:

• I revel in frivolity and whimsy. Can I help it if I have a really great sense of humor and enjoy sharing laughs with others, and that Pinterest came along and made that extra easy to do? The me who used to love to curl up with a book at night apparently also loves to find succinct witticisms in jpeg form and share then with my Facebook pals. It's probably because I have a somewhat soul-sucking job these days, but it's also because those images are just so damn hilarious!

• I truly appreciate messiness and coloring outside the lines. Both at home (I have almost as much stuff on shelves as I have "pins" on "boards"!) and inside a relationship (letting our lives spill into each other a bit, blurring our boundaries rather than neatly keeping our romance separate from our day-to-day lives), it excites me to see what the blending and juxtaposition of different aspects of things can bring. Basically, even in these early stages, I like being able to pick up the phone and call whenever, and sometimes that call might be: "Wanna makeout? Meet me in 20 minutes!" You can't do that when your relationship fits into a highly constrained and scheduled bubble.

"Bubble shapes can have different relationships"

• I dig randomness, irregularity, and novelty. This can sometimes make me seem like I have a short attention span, but I'm taking it all in, honest. Not a word or nuance of what you've said has been missed, I promise ... and later, when you least expect it, I will likely show you just how much attention I was paying when I surprise you with something you will love. But in the moment, sometimes it seems like ... ooh, a squirrel!

"Functional diagrams have irregular shapes with close proximity"

To someone who deliberately eschews frivolity, chaos, and variance in his personal life in favor of moderation, austerity, and discipline, I might come off as a tad ... exasperating. Interestingly, all those things that make him uncomfortable in his personal life totally fascinate him in his career analyzing them as a scientist. Admittedly, I am somewhat the opposite in my professional life, too.

So there I was for the first time in possibly ever: on the receiving end of that kind of scrutiny. Mind you, it was subtle, not heavy-handed at all, but it still kind of sucked a bit ... and I'm glad for it, frankly. It opened me up to a way of being that was not serving me in love. I can now appreciate how others have felt as I looked upon them as some sort of mildly naive child and/or annoyingly frustrating disappointment. I see now that being on the receiving end of it simultaneously makes you hope you don't disappoint them further, while wondering if you should throw in the towel sooner rather than later.

The truth is, feeling that tone coming from him may have played a role in my decision to hit "pause" when I did, but I wouldn't trade being on the receiving end of that experience for anything. I will always appreciate the "adorable" lesson that I learned from this experiment (have I used enough sciencey/teachy puns yet?). I've also learned that who we are in a breakup says just as much about how we love as how we fall in love does.

How Will It End Next Time?

Regardless of who he is, the next object of my desire will be the luckiest one of them all, because first hand experience of dating a version of myself has helped me be so much more tuned-in, empathetic, and caring. Personally, I'm still holding out hope for that "happily ever after" because I know they do exist ... I even know a few examples personally, and have conjured many others in my mind. I'm ready, willing, able, and the law of averages dictates that I am due for one.

She ain't dead yet, so back on that horse I go!

"Giddyup!"

Post script:

As I was putting the final touches of edits and images on this little ditty, a message came in from Mister Adorable that cleared so many things up, and confirmed everything above and then some. Due to "philosophical differences" regarding relationships -- he sees love as "hard work" and "effort," while I see love as a way to share fun, joy, and excitement about being alive with someone special -- there will not be a next time with this one. I know he thought his message was going to pack some sort of an eye-opening wallop to me, but instead I look at it with a sigh, knowing I was there once, too ... heck, this blog is chock full of those kinds of moments where I attempted the very same blame-filled argument from that very same exasperated perspective. I like where I am now much better ... and it's got a fantastic view!

Let - Go

So last night, I stopped seeing my boyfriend of seven weeks, whom I still love and adore more than anyone to date. Let me back up...

Everything was perfect about us coming together, right down to the details of how I felt before I met him ... like I was already in this relationship and expected to look over one day and finally see him in his solid form. And that is what happened in many ways ... it was perfection.

Everything except living an 11-hour drive between us.

I must have overlooked this when I felt into any of the specifics of this relationship before it manifested ... or maybe I've put too much attention there in the past and that drew it to me even more.

It also turns out that I am still very much the same girl I was when I was 17. The brain still does the same old tricks ... it squirms and wiggles away from the firm grasp I thought I had on it like some slippery snake/water wiener dipped in baby oil. I've gotten much better at catching it, but apparently I haven't managed to rub off all the slippery unctuousness.

See, I'm ready for the deeper plunge with someone. I'm not only ready, I'm wholeheartedly expecting it. And it's about time! But that slippery brain of mine is also stubborn. It can latch onto a thought like, "I don't do well with long distance relationships," and remind me of that again and again and again, drowning out solidly felt things like, "I adore this man of mine."

So after doing battle with the She-Creature within -- breathing and meditating away the thoughts, trying to go general and focus on the things that make me feel good, etc -- the beast wore me down. By the third time I caved to her old issues regarding distance, I was actually feeling physical pain from it. My chest had been tightening up, seizing with little stabby feelings, and my jaw was clenched tight. Like lockjaw tight.

No, I was not having a heart attack. Yes, however, my thoughts were attacking my heart.

For my own sanity, and for the preservation of how we both feel towards each other, I decided to end things. It felt like the only way ... to keep it under glass and keep the She-Creature from stomping all over the beautiful garden that we'd cultivated together.

I know, that sounds a little childish, but it honestly is the most adult thing that I have ever done in my life. I walked away from love. Not crapped it up until we both were exhausted with one another and couldn't stand the sight of each other ... but saved it like a snapshot in time ... or maybe more like a bookmark, because if the opportunity should come up, I want to pick it back up on the page where I left it. I hope he does, too, but I have no control over that.

I'm leaving out a lot of detail here for everyone's sake, but trust me when I say, if I didn't love him as much as I do, I couldn't have felt as pained as I did by the distance.

If in the future he finds his life heading towards mine -- and there is always the possibility of that, especially if he really wants it and puts his focus there -- I will gladly reopen this book. I repeated to him how much I love him and how much that will not change, regardless if he's mad at me right now ... regardless of whether or not he finds his way closer to me.

I know there's a blindspot there that I'm working on, and someday I hope to have closed that gap for myself, but that does not lessen the amount that I am capable of loving. And I will continue to discover my love has higher heights and deeper depths and that I have a broader reach than I can even fathom right now.

It sucks being away from him, but it was all the going back and forth, the waiting between, the compartmentalized visits, and the negotiating and planning just to see each other again that hurt more than just not seeing him for a longer stretch. So in a strange way, it feels like nothing has changed. I still love him because I felt that love before I met him, and will continue to feel it.

And because it feels like nothing has changed to me, I've not been able to bring myself to change our status on that social networking site. Perhaps I should allow him choose when or if the time for that is right?

As odd as it sounds, I let go of the man I love to keep him. He will always be mine exactly as I feel for him here. I'm focused on that, and although I miss the physicality of us, I am excited by the possibilities that are in store. For both of us.

He has new career opportunities to explore very soon, and I will be his biggest cheerleader no matter where those opportunities take him. I hope he feels the same way about me, and I hope the distance gap between us narrows so that we can explore together some more. The wiser me knows that the components of greater things are assembling...

...to be continued <3