Think to Hope

I’d tried to bring it up before, but the conversation was again derailed- subject changed, glossed over, left for another day. I didn’t push. I was careful not to push.

Why did I think I had to last night?

It was late and we both needed to work in the morning, but it has been on my mind. I was afraid of the answer and the changes it could bring to this undefined, open-ended us I’ve grown fond of. Things between us have been light, fun, and tender. To lose what I’ve gained in the name of searching for something more, that might not even exist, seemed illogical.

And yet, it had been on my mind.

I dared hope things were going in a particular direction: upwards and closer. I’m a patient person. I thought it was only a matter of time. The hope was starting to approach expect, and I felt like I needed to bring it up or reign in my own thoughts.

I knew I might be the only one of two that thought this was going somewhere.

I was restless. He could see there was something on my mind. I don’t know how to hide things and lie, and I don’t want to.

So I ask if he thinks we’ll ever date exclusively, if he thinks this is going somewhere.

After a brief dance around the subject he comes clean. At some point there was the possibility, but at some point recently he also realized it was likely never going to happen for us.

So maybe at the exact moment where my mind dared hope, where romantic notions took root, he was having a revelation that we would reach a place, or have reached a place, an plateau out. It’s not a bad place to be, but it’s not going higher. We’re special, but not special enough, close, and yet still a million miles apart.

I’m reminding myself that not everyone I date is going to even approach the possibility of being someone I will be with for a long time. Not every person I feel for will settle in a deep place and stay.

He feels guilty for not telling me when he realized. He knew that I was headed in the opposite direction as him- where I started to hope, he started to realize. I feel a little betrayed. Why do I have to be the honest, courageous one and bring up the difficult topics?

It’s not a big betrayal, and he was honest when I asked him point blank, but it still hurts. And he disappointed himself and me and he knows it. It’s the first sad moment since we’ve been dating. I remember every reason I felt great to be free of this exercise in attempting this level human connection. If the results always equal less than, why do I keep trying the same equation? I think I’ll get bigger numbers to add up to something substantial.

I asked him why he dates people. He never gave me a real answer, instead he asked me. I told him I didn’t know. Then I told him I was looking for a real fucking connection: with understanding, yet learning and wonder, and once that connection was there, caring, and with that, ultimately, a companion. I’m not so naive that I don’t know most, if not all of these connections will be temporary, but I still sometimes want to settle for a little while in that comfortable place where there is someone.

He admitted he didn’t want to exclusively date anyone anytime soon.

I asked him why and he said he needed to improve himself first- to get to a place where he was settled and happy with who he was. I laughed and told him I hoped he never was, because it would a sad day that he thought he was beyond improvement. We’re young and unsure in life right now and he thinks there is a magic switch somewhere that is going to turn on adulthood and allow him to settle into someone and something closer to perfection.

I tried to get every ounce of hurt out of my system. I tried to let it move through me and out of me and not burrow its way into a hole where it could stay and fester. After it settled I tried to answer the question of ‘What now?’.

I knew he was looking at me waiting for that answer. He told me his sister went through something similar recently- wanted more from a guy and he didn’t have more to give. She broke up with the guy. It seemed like he was trying to give me an easy, natural progression to end it if wanted to.

He thought it was over for a moment, that he’d messed up. I looked at him and couldn’t be angry; he’s under my skin still. If things can’t move to a new height, I’m still not ready to come down quite yet. I’m glad to know where I stand, at least I have that. I let him know that at some point, I wouldn’t be able to wait. At some point I’d have to finish moving on, as we’re not going anywhere.

But in this moment, for right now, we’re going to keep having fun. I warned him though, we need to stay honest or we’re going to ruin trust between us and both be hurt. Honesty isn’t just about lying, it’s about disclosing expectations and revelations. You can’t knowingly let the other person living in a place of false hope or ideas.

He knew I thought this was going further and he knew it wasn’t. Even if it was a recent revelation, he should have told me. He didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want to hurt or ruin what we had. He was scared.

Did he know how scared as I was, trusting and knowing this might happen? You lend a part of yourself when you trust and it’s up to that person to take care with that. I’ve always been good at doing that for other people, but I have never picked the right person to give my own. And now that he has it, I plead with him to not approach this place again. I need to be able to expect the truth.

I’m going to try not to make more of it than it is. I’m fast to forgive and I hope faith isn’t misplaced.

I feel like I have shut him out a small bit for my own sanity, while also feeling him thrust closer. I’m throwing up an arm to his throat and not letting him pass my guard. A comparison to jiu-jitsu is appropriate as we participate in this dangerous sport, both looking to improve, to find a better position, and having a ton of fun doing it.

There’s also a hint of desperation, like we know our days together are numbered and some day, maybe sooner than one or both of us would like, this will dissolve. And what will be left then? Will we speak with each other? Look each other in the eye?

Usually when these things are done, they’re done with only memories remaining and an unlucky bit of bitterness. Maybe this time, I hope this time, we can skip the chapter of hurt, betrayal, and unnecessary drama and have a fine farewell at the end. Dare I hope for a lasting, meaningful friendship?

In the meantime, we still have this. Togther we will train jiu-jitsu, eat sushi, cook, dine, party, visit the aquarium and tour the chocolate factory, talk about inane topics and subtle psychology, exchange strategies for our careers, share insights and passions, play and banter, geek out, and make as many fond memories as we’re able.

I’m a bit sad, but I’m also relieved at a bit of added definition. These thoughts have been aired out so I can move past them. I don’t know where I’m going, but now I do know that in the end he’s ultimately not coming with me.

Forward Momentum

Yes, I think about them: the caveats, pitfalls, and fears I’ve followed down the hole before. Hindsight is so much better. With it I can see the course that will lead me away from falling, but if I fail to do anything now then I miss the chance to move forward. Hindsight is only so useful.

Would I know that I was moving backwards until it was too late? I don’t know that I have a sense of my momentum, but I think that I’m moving forward. I feel wind passing by me, the air crisp, and my head clear.

Being with someone again has been great, but I am a little bit leery of this limbo that I stop and see myself in sometimes. Freeze frame, I worry and wonder if I am making the same mistakes, falling into old patterns. I have no evidence, by I am constantly, acutely aware of the past.

I’m also not used to ‘seeing’ people. The way it has always been for me: either I’m in a relationship or I’m not. I don’t know if I’m entirely comfortable here, but I also know that the self-improvement thing is about taking risks, going outside of your comfort zone, and goddamn trying. Everything tells me this is a healthy thing, to force me to learn not to rush into things.

I don’t ever want to get stuck and hung up on a person to the point of potentially losing myself. I’ve done it before. It’s been a long time since I’ve even approached a relationship, it’s been a long time since this has happened, but I’m always aware it has. As much as I’ve grown, that person who made those mistakes in the past was me, and I have to work not to make any repeat performances.

But this is already so different, will I really repeat myself that considered? What happens if I get hung up anyways in spite of myself?

At first he scared me, and now I scare me. That’s a pattern I know and I’m scrubbing it with steel wool, but who knows if the stain will come out. Why am I scared- because I like him. I like him a lot.

I’m not saying I want to be with someone I don’t like, but I’m very scared of liking someone too much. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to be used to being with him, and he suddenly will have moved on to someone else. Irrationally, I think that labeling our relationship differently (going from seeing each other to full blown relationship) will allay these fears and make them an impossibility. I know that is stupid.

So if I call this something different, is that supposed to make my hold on him tighter?

And why would I want it to be tighter? It would be tighter around me too. I like not feeling too relied on, or relying too much. It’s so much more healthy than what I’m used to. My sense of self is strong and I am on my two feet relying on just that. He is also strong, not leaning on me in any way, threatening to take me down wherever he may go.

Is this simple jealousy maybe? I don’t like the idea of him potentially seeing other people, but I constantly remind myself of the idea… not to torture myself, but to stay used to the idea. I might still want him around and he might be gone (or with someone else). That will hurt regardless, but it will hurt more if I believe it can’t happen.

Is it the idea of him being with someone else, or is it him not being with me? The fact that I’m okay with the situation tells me it’s the latter. I don’t want another girl he’s seeing to take him away from me. I don’t want to lose what I have gained.

What I need to realize that what I have gained are experiences of being with him in a positive way. People go away. I hate those facts, fickle natures and the that things end. But, they do end. People move on, including me.

I keep telling myself so I stay used to the idea of him not being around. Maybe that’s pessimistic, but pinching myself is allowing me not to get lost in a romantic dream.

I am likely making an illusion of control. He makes me happy, and to have a degree of happiness taken away, one needs to find new happiness all over again or get used to it being gone. It’s not always easy to find again. Absence can be felt strongly regardless if you were told it would come.

I hate relying on others. People suck. I hate trusting.

And that’s what it boils down to- I trust him and I don’t want to trust anyone but me. I know I’m trustworthy. I always pull through in the end.

Maybe the answer is to see even more guys, but I’m not exactly interested. Oh, sure, there are guys I flirt with, impossible people who would never put forward a foot to walk along side me. I honestly wasn’t looking to see him when it happened; he fell out of the sky.

Maybe I’m a misanthrope, because when I seriously consider the idea all I can think about is how disgusting men are (women too in all fairness, people in general, but I’m not romantically involved with women, so I say men). I could pick up guys, but I don’t actually want them. Would most men respect me for me or just want to get me in bed? I like sex as much as the next person, but I am the type of person that doesn’t need it from other people. The things I seek: actual care and respect, these things are much harder to find.

So, where the hell did he come from and how did I let him in? I’m still just asking that basic question. I wasn’t looking, but there he was. I want to hold on tight, and I want to run away. This is scary stuff.

So here I am, trying to take slow the speeding train that time and time again is how my head handles things. Slow down. Smell the flowers. Keep your base so you don’t get swept off your feet.

I am learning, even if it is at my own pace. And even with those worries below the surface, I can still make out my face staring resolutely towards my goals. I am more than okay, and this is way more that okay. It’s just my nature to worry, analyze, question, and try to anticipate any chance of a wrong foot forward. I should try not to focus on it. If I do, I might accidentally allow it to stifle the steps I take towards something new and wonderful.

Here’s to something new and wonderful- and stop worrying about it already! Life happens, and will continue regardless. Change is scary. Have the courage to face forward!