So, it’s no secret that I’m crazy about NYEG, and getting crazier about him by the second.
This generally looks like him sending me a ridiculously mushy text, such as “I woke up today really wishing you were next to me,” and me giggling for a few seconds and then smiling like an idiot for, oh, the next hour. Yesterday during a departmental meeting, I kept beaming at my boss, and she kept looking back at me curiously, as if to say, “I’ve never seen you this excited about company procedures and processes.”
Needless to say, our weekend together was lovely. I haven’t wanted to blog about it because I knew that anything I wrote about it would inevitably resemble one of the ridiculously mushy texts I send in reply to his ridiculously mushy texts, such as “I get butterflies when I think about seeing you.” Or the phone conversations we have each night that last at least an hour, as we outline our respective days, with intermittent “I can’t wait to see you”s and “I miss you”s spread throughout.
Yep. Pretty mushy.
He pointed out Monday night that we’ve known each other for exactly a month, but it feels as though it’s been much, much longer than that. Though I suppose that’s because it was only a couple of months ago that I had planned to be alone for a long time, if not forever. That I had begun to realize that there was a large chance I’d never fall in love again. That I had begun to be okay with that, because at least it had happened for me once.
And then I met NYEG.
Because my last significant relationship was with a married man while I, myself, was married, my standards of what’s expected in a relationship seem to have been dramatically lowered, which has apparently resulted in an uncommonly high amount of infatuation, mixed in with sporadic bouts of ecstasy, all brought on by the simplest expressions of affection and care. In short, I’m not hard to please.
When all the drama about our relationship first exploded with BFF and BFF’s Sister, NYEG proposed that we date in secret until everything blew over. I said that was certainly an option, but has he ever had a secret relationship? Because they’re not all they’re cracked up to be. Especially if you happen to fall in love with your secret, because when you fall in love with someone, you inevitably want to tell the world about it. Or at least the ones close to you. And not being able to is, well, very painful. To say the least. I told him that I would have a secret relationship with him if I weren’t interested in falling in love with him. He replied that he wouldn’t date me if he weren’t interested in falling in love with me.
I had so wanted to have a healthy relationship, free of lies and guilt and hurt, after my last two (simultaneous) dysfunctional ones. And now it seems we’ve managed to move through the drama, and I am experiencing exactly that, a healthy relationship that’s budding with intimacy and honesty and openness and trust and respect and a good amount of giddiness, for the first time, well, ever.
He calls when he says he will. In fact, he calls/texts me whenever he wants. I call/text him whenever I want. He listens to me. REALLY listens to me. He remembers the things I say. He gives me his undivided attention. He talks to me until I say I have to go. He stays with me until I say he has to go. We don’t have to keep our feelings for each other a secret. We don’t have to lie to others about our relationship. We don’t have to lie to ourselves. When we want to see each other, we make it happen. We don’t have to wish. Or imagine.
And, mostly, I can write all I want about how incredibly smitten I am, how I feel as though I’m falling with my arms spread out wide and my head tilted to the sky, my only concern keeping the mushy factor to a (somewhat) minimum.
Yesterday when I walked into church, the first person I saw was Charlie, a three-year-old in my Sunday school class. I said hello to him, and he told me that he was in charge of holding the cross in the processional. I told him that was a very important job, and then I walked further into the building.
Next thing I knew, a small person was hugging my knees. I looked down and saw Emma, a five-year-old in my class. I told her she had a very pretty coat on, and she thanked me. Then, her father asked me if she could sit with me after children’s chapel, because her grandparents, whom she usually sits with, weren’t there yesterday, and he would be in the choir loft, as he has recently joined the choir. I told him that would of course be okay, and showed Emma where I would be sitting so that she could easily find me.
When children’s chapel let out, just after the Nicene Creed and during the offertory, Emma found me and brought with her Audrey, another five-year-old in my class and her sister, Analiese, a seven-year-old who has just this year graduated from my class. I hushed the three of them as the priest read the prayer of Thanksgiving, encouraged them to say The Lord’s Prayer along with me, and corralled them to the altar for Communion. I glimpsed their little hands folded, right on top of left, to receive the bread, and smiled to myself just before I lowered my eyes to my own hands.
As we took our seats again, another dad walked up to me and asked if I had room for one more. Charlie appeared beside him and attempted to climb over all the little girl legs separating him from me. I lifted him by the armpits and sat him beside me. As we read the post-Communion prayer, he said that he wanted to color, and I told him that church was very nearly over, and afterwards we were going to go to a big church lunch.
At that big church lunch, I ended up at the kid’s table, surrounded by even more children, including two quiet sisters who are in my class and another slightly older girl who has come to my class a couple of times. Conversation ranged from the various pets we’ve had to what they’re currently learning in school, and I have no doubt that it was much more interesting than anything I would’ve heard at a table with adults.
Afterwards, as the adults chatted and the children ran around the parish hall from all the soda they had just consumed, I sidled up to Audrey and Analiese’s mother. She commented that I certainly had my hands full and asked me if I’ve ever considered teaching full-time. I told her that, well, actually, I never thought I would, but I’ve been so blessed by teaching Sunday school that I’ve recently begun looking into pursuing Montessori certification. She said that something about me just seems to attract children, and she realized in conversation with her husband the other day that it’s probably due to a certain peace that I exude. She confessed that she was jealous of this peace of mine, but her husband reminded her that she has her own special talents, and even if they’re not the same as mine, they’re hers, and they’re good.
I confirmed that this was true and politely thanked her, but in retrospect I think that maybe I also should’ve mentioned that this peace of mine she noticed? It’s most likely my 20 daily milligrams of Prozac.
I’ve been in love with my life for all of 2010 so far. It’s been spectacular. I wake up exquisitely happy, ready to greet the day. I linger in bed for a few minutes after my alarm goes off to pet my dog and revel in the joy he brings me. I no longer spend a ridiculous amount of time getting ready in the mornings, because I already feel beautiful most of the time, even with lighter makeup and my naturally wavy hair going in all kinds of directions and my dark blonde roots growing in. I walk into work whistling even though I’m not exactly thrilled with my job. I chat up complete strangers, smiling at them and thanking them and looking them in the eye. I spend my nights quietly, playing guitar or reading or soaking in the tub.
The end of last year was rough. I made some hard decisions. I felt frantic most of the time. I couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over. I couldn’t stand to be alone. But then something shifted. I began to feel okay again, to enjoy my solitude. To accept that where I am is directly due to the decisions I’ve made, both bad and good. I made some resolutions to change the things that I didn’t like, and to pursue the things I do like. And I met someone I’m crazy about, which, despite all the drama that ensued, has given me an incredible amount of hope. That maybe I will find love again, even if it’s not with him.
But maybe the thing that shifted is the fact that my doctor doubled my dose of antidepressants. And so all the while, I keep wondering–is it me, or is it the pills?
Soon-To-Be Ex-Husband and I went to a festival of sorts. We boarded a whirly ride, but then the festival-runners decided to shut down the operation as we were in the air. They cut our ride short and made us come down, treating us as if we had done something wrong.
I tried to make the best of it, saying I enjoyed the ride while it lasted, but STBEH was surly and wouldn’t look me in the eye, treating me as if I was the one who had done something wrong.
“I wonder which is preferable–to walk around all your life swollen up with your own secrets until you burst from the pressure of them, or to have them sucked out of you, every paragraph, every sentence, every word of them, so at the end you’re depleted of all that was once as precious to you as hoarded gold, as close to you as your skin–everything that was of the deepest importance to you, everything that made you cringe and wish to conceal, everything that belonged to you alone–and must spend the rest of your days like an empty sack flapping in the wind, an empty sack branded with a bright fluorescent label so that everyone will know what sort of secrets used to be inside you?
I carry no brief, for better or worse.
Loose Lips Sink Ships, said the wartime poster. Of course the ships will all sink anyway, sooner or later.”
–Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
Sonofabitch.
I did the right thing, right? She’ll get over it, right? BFF’s and my friendship will be okay, right?
I wish I had other things to write about. Of course, I do, but I don’t want to write about them.
A reader of mine e-mailed me yesterday to get an update on the NYEG situation. Specifically, he asked if I “went all Romeo and Juliet” and started dating him anyway.
The answer is yes. Yes, I have.
After stewing in my anger and hurt for a while, I continued to talk to NYEG on the phone every night. I realized that I was unable to stop speaking to him without feeling enormous quantities of anger and hurt, so one way or the other, someone was going to be hurt. The situation had already progressed to a point where that was inevitable. NYEG and I were already too invested in each other when BFF’s sister got up in arms about it.
I tend to be rather good at rationalizing how to get the things I want. In this case, I performed a cost/benefit analysis. If I were to stop communicating with NYEG, I would be hurt, NYEG would be hurt, BFF’s sister would be normal, and there’s a chance everyone would end up alone. If I were to continue communicating with NYEG, BFF’s sister would be hurt, I would be much, much happier than normal, NYEG would also hopefully be happy, and perhaps we would even find love.
Call it selfish if you want. It might be. But that’s my thought process.
My main concern was how BFF would handle it. After spending the whole long weekend with her, she’s come to see that I’m crazy about NYEG. She thinks it’s unfortunate that her sister won’t drop it, but she hopes she will. I’m sure she will eventually. In the meantime, things might be uncomfortable, but it’s nothing we can’t manage. Nothing our friendship can’t survive.
NYEG is coming to see me this weekend.
And he’s already asked me out for Valentine’s Day.
So there’s been a hiccup with New Year’s Eve Guy. He’s actually the ex-boyfriend of my best friend’s sister, and my best friend’s sister has taken issue with the relationship. Which has caused BFF to side with her sister, and to tell me that I basically had to choose between her and NYEG. Obviously I chose BFF. And I told NYEG that he shouldn’t come to see me this weekend because it was a complicated situation. He got angry about the situation (not at me, but at BFF and her sister), but he respected my decision.
And then I also got angry about the situation.
If I put myself in BFF’s sister’s shoes, I know that I wouldn’t be thrilled about my ex-boyfriend’s new relationship, but I also know that any hurt I felt as a result would be my problem, not anyone else’s. And I certainly wouldn’t tell someone not to date someone because it would hurt me. I’d tell them to go ahead, and then just deal with my resulting feelings. And it would get easier over time, especially if the new couple was happy. Because that’s what I’d ultimately want–for my sister’s BFF to be happy.
That’s clearly, though, not how BFF’s sister has handled it. She has told me that it would hurt her, and if I continued on with the relationship with NYEG, it would make things awkward when I come to see BFF, since they are roommates. Which would put BFF in a place where she felt she had to be loyal to her sister over me, which would put a strain on the friendship.
Overall, I’m not happy with the way BFF has handled the situation. Of course I expect her to side with her sister, but is that really necessary here? And there were additional hurts. First, she said that I should’ve considered how her sister would react before I kissed NYEG, but she admitted that she herself didn’t even know how her sister would react. She said that I make impulsive decisions without any regard for anyone else’s feelings. Ouch. Second, BFF said that NYEG probably only wanted to come see me because he got the impression that I’m easy. Double ouch. Third, BFF seems to have the (somewhat jealous) attitude that finding love is very easy for me, but it’s not, and I haven’t felt an attraction like I did with NYEG in a really, really long time.
A friend of mine thought that since my best friend wasn’t really acting like much a friend, her opinion here should be null–I should do what makes me happy, and let the friendship chips fall where they may. But. She is still my best friend, regardless of how crappy of a friend she can be sometimes. I don’t want to lose her.
I don’t know what to do. But I’m still angry. So I thought I’d open my dilemma up to my readers (however few there are of you). What do you think I should do?
Edit: Some facts that might be helpful:
1. BFF’s sister broke up with NYEG over a year ago.
2. I do think love is possible here.
1. Buy a membership to my city’s art museum.
2. Buy 365 dresses from modcloth.com.
3. After work every night, put on a new dress and make myself impossibly beautiful.
4. Go to the museum and stare sadly mournfully at the art until the museum closes.
5. Wait for the dashing young man of my dreams to ask me why I’m so sad.
Foolproof, right?
I’m spending the bulk of my day filling out a career goals form that I will meet with my boss about tomorrow, and will then go to HR and into my permanent file, along with my past employee evaluations.
Needless to say, I’m utterly thrilled about this.
As I sit here and brainstorm, I keep coming up with excellent career goals, but they’re not really the type that should go on this form. Here are a few examples.
—
1st Goal/Objective: To quit this job.
Importance: Essential
Measurement: Spend my days growing more and more disillusioned. Filling out this form is a good start. In my free time, I could search sites such as monster.com and hotjobs.com, update my resume, and write cover letters.
Due Date: By the end of the year, so help me God.
Results Achieved: Actually growing my career.
—
2nd Goal/Objective: To spend my free time gchatting with my best friend.
Importance: Desirable
Measurement: Sitting at my computer apparently laughing to myself while typing furiously.
Due Date: Right now
Results Achieved: Regain sanity.
—
3rd Goal/Objective (courtesy that BFF): To meet a handsome and rich vampire who is or is similar to Edward Cullen.
Importance: Essential
Measurement: Becoming a vampire, but not before bearing his vampire baby.
Due Date: On or around my 19th birthday.
Results Achieved: Eternal ecstasy, strength, beauty, immortality.
—
4th Goal/Objective: To develop a better relationship with my boss.
Importance: Important
Measurement: Drinking together.
Due Date: Tonight, or when the idea stops horrifying us.
Results Achieved: Not hating working with each other.
Hey, y’all. It’s been a while. But I just gave this link to an old reader who asked if I have any new secret blogs, and then I decided to read over some of these posts because, well, like I said, it’s been a while, and then I got motivated to write again. It’s like magic! Let’s hope it lasts this time!
Mostly, I wanted to write to say that I had a whole string of “yes” days, meaning I was actually in love with my life for several days in a row. And even though that kind of stopped being the gimmick of this blog a few months ago, it’s still the main theme of the blog, and it’s still the main theme of my life, and it still feels significant.
The string of days stopped, of course, when I came back to work today. And so! These are my new year’s resolutions for 2010:
1. Get a job I actually love (or at least don’t hate).
2. Only have sex with men I’m in love with (which means I probably won’t be having much sex this year).
3. Budget my money like a grown-up.
4. Write more. Maybe even on this blog.
Also, I had a really rockin’ new year’s kiss. From a nice boy (I say “boy” even though he’s my age). Who lives three hours away, but who wants to come see me this weekend.
(But I won’t have sex with him until I’m in love with him. I won’t!)
Yes, it’s going to be my year.
