if i don't, then i can't

I hate to bring this up—I’m just tired of talking about it, and thinking about it, and writing about it, and analyzing it. But if I don’t, then I can’t. It’s him…again. Apparently he just does a little breaking and entering back into my life whenever he feels like it. I take partial blame here…because…well…I let him do it. There are no consequences for him if he disappears for a week or three. Without fail, every time I start to accept the fact that I won’t being hearing from or seeing him anymore—here he comes with his charming, interesting, beautiful self. And on the flip side, every time we start to get comfortable, every time things start moving towards a higher level of commitment, he rides off into the sunset.

Why do we do this little dance? Well, because I have daddy issues and he has mommy issues. Simple, right? Maybe, but maybe not.

What does he want from me? And more importantly, what do I want from him? Why do I allow this behavior? Why don’t I kick his ass to the curb like so many before him? Is it pity? Loyalty? Empathy? Stupidity?

I love--and I hate--roller coasters. Every time I’m in the presence of a roller coaster people try to convince me to ride it. I resist at first, but eventually give in. As you climb into that oddly familiar plastic car with the safety bar set for two people (namely a small child or Andre the Giant) you start to feel a small thrill of excitement. As the train slowly chugs up that first hill, you feel your stomach drop and paint that nervous smile on your face. You reach the top and then it’s all screams and laughing during that first drop. But with every loop-de-loop or sharp turn your enthusiasm lessens. And towards the end you just want the damn thing to end you can go get some disgustingly wonderful cotton candy. Where am I going with this? Well if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you. But I will tell you this. This guy is different somehow. He throws in curves and loop-de-loops that you never see coming. Good or bad or whatever, I’m just not ready to exit my little plastic car, not yet.

I don’t know if I should care for a man who made life easy; I should want someone who made it interesting. –Edith Wharton