pillow talk gone awry

One of the scariest parts of a “relationship” can come at any point. It can start out as a joking observation or a planned “we need to talk” or maybe as some pillow-talk gone awry. What I am referring to is the “where is this going” talk. The dreaded relationship conversation that forces you to take a discriminating look at where you are and where you hope your partner is. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I was fairly confident that the guy was head over heels for me. He came on strong in the beginning and has continued to show me growing affection and attachment. So when we had this talk last night, I was flabbergasted (yeah, I think this the most appropriate word for my feelings) flabbergasted when he danced around any real sort of answer and left it with a very ambiguous and clichéd “I don’t know.” Were you listening very closely? Could you hear that? That was the sound of my guard being thrown back up; the layers of myself that had started to be revealed were tucked away and went into immediate lockdown. To anyone not paying attention, it was a subtle and almost imperceptible shift; happily the guy is smart and observant, he knew it had happened.

So fast-forward past the rest of the night (hanging out and drinking with his friends) to when we crawl back to his bed in the wee hours of the morning where the conversation is continued. Honestly, I don’t remember the conversation as a whole because—you guessed it—I was a little drunky. But I will sum it up. According to him, he’s scared. He wants to take care of me and doesn’t feel like he’s up to it just yet, he’s insecure (about the relationship, women, life, etc.), he’s afraid of getting hurt and he’s afraid of hurting me. Are these valid excuses? Well sure. And while we are in the very beginning of this relationship, HE is the one who wanted to make things official, and HE is the one who asked me to be his girlfriend.

God, I feel like a huge idiot. I feel like an idiot for hoping for so much and letting myself get carried away. I know better than to let the idealistic and romantic part of me rule a relationship. I’m afraid, scratch that, I’m terrified of commitment and particularly of committing myself to something as unstable as another human being.

Is he “the one?” Fuck if I know. But I do know that he’s a good man and that I would be a fool to push this guy away. How do I know? Well for me, here’s how I know: the little things that bother me about him--well who am I kidding, they still bother me--but I’m willing to let them go because I know that it doesn’t matter if he’s balding or he smokes or he bites his nails or can’t spell. I know those things don’t matter. What matters is that he is attractive and intelligent and I don’t think I’ve met anyone that tries so hard to see me smile.


The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. -Ayn Rand

I wasn't looking and fell into a relationship.

So the guy referred to me as his girlfriend last night. When was the last time a guy I was dating actually called me his “girlfriend” when talking to his friends?! It’s been a long time. I almost laughed when he said it, not because I don’t want to be his girlfriend, but just because it was so unexpected. And speaking of unexpected… he came over to make me dinner last night and when I opened the door he said, “I brought you a present,” and hands me a jar of garlic. I laughed and said, “I love it.” He then says, “Then you’ll love this.” He reaches around the door and hands me roses. I think the word I should use here was shocked. I was literally shocked. First of all he didn’t choose the traditional (and cliché) pink or red (Thank Jeebus) but a beautiful coral color; and second, well honestly I’m still amazed that he brought me roses for no reason real reason other than he wanted to. (And he probably hoped to get boned. Yeah, I’m super romantical.)

But now here comes real life. I’m freaking out. It’s what I want right? I want this relationship with this guy. I do, I do, I really do. So why, why, WHY am I second-guessing and trying to talk myself out of liking this guy and moving the whole thing forward? It’s like, if I’m not struggling, if I don’t feel that I’m hanging onto the relationship by a thread, then it’s not right—there’s not enough “spark.” When what I really mean by spark is the anxiousness and the constant unease of not knowing when and if I’ll hear from him again. When did I start believing that it’s okay for me to be the only one fighting for a relationship, trying to preserve a relationship, forgiving all the wrongs and hurts just so I won’t rock the proverbial boat? Why am I so goddamn fucked up? I’m being treated so well, with such love and respect that I am… what? What am I? Scared? Restless? Nervous? Insane? Tired? Hungry? Well, okay, not the last two. But now we get down to it, don’t we? Why am I so eager to throw away this great guy with all of his friendship, and adoration, and passion for me? I think I need to settle down and maybe even be straight with him and explain what’s going on in my crazy, little brain.

“I know what you want. And I know what you need. But I’m gonna screw it up, yeah, cause I’m an idiot. And I’m your boyfriend.” --Jimmy Fallon

I Hate Love

I find myself in a predicament of sorts. How do I open up to the possibility of a relationship and the possibility of love and intimacy when I’ve taught myself to guard from all possible attacks? I’ve been building walls since I was a kid; brick by brick I piled them so no one could get in. I learned at a very young age that if you hid your emotions behind your face, you could take advantage of seeming poised and detached; and sometimes even taking advantage of this carefully constructed façade to find hidden opportunities to use to my advantage. I learned how to manipulate and lie and distance myself from anyone who showed the slightest possibility of wanting a sincere relationship with me. Of course, there is the odd person or two that managed to wriggle through a crack and to those good friends I have always been as honest and loyal and altruistic a friend as I am capable of. But they are very few. With those few exceptions to the rule, I am guilty of only allowing superficial friends and lovers into my life. And while they may be alcoholics, drug addicts, emotionally unavailable, immature, selfish and angry, they were very safe choices. You could always count on them to split.

My very first “real” relationship was the most “successful” relationship I’ve had to date. And while I did break down some of my emotional barriers and let him in. It was the first time, in a very long time that I would learn to lean on someone else emotionally and trust in someone else’s genuine love and respect for me. I also set little traps and picked fights and told little lies (some not so little) and ultimately laid the foundation for what would prove to be a very tumultuous, unbalanced relationship. As you might have guessed, like 99% of all first loves, it ended after a year. And not well. That was almost four years ago now and since then I have had the good common sense to pick and choose men who I know will leave me sooner, rather than later. They are always charming, funny, and talented and a myriad of desirable qualities—but none of them have loved me and I have not loved a single one of them. Not in the true sense of the word. How can you love someone when you won’t let them see who you are? So I’ve been operating under the assumption that it was good common sense. But now, now I’m standing on a precipice. I can either turn back towards what is comfortable, what is easy and safe or I can step off into the unknown. I can choose not to bring my usual bag of tricks into the beginning of this relationship and just play it straight. It’s going to be really hard for me. But I think this guy might be worth it.


Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…I hate love.” --Neil Gaiman