I think one of my problems is that I think every post I make must be profound or earth-shattering. Impossible expectations..that’s my problem. Why do I expect so much of myself? I click on other people’s blogs and always enjoy the casual just-posting-to-give-an-update blogs. I don’t understand why that’s not good enough for me.
Anyway, I was supposed to be waking up this morning in the arms of someone I love. *sigh* Oh what a good feeling that would have been. It’s been a long time since that’s ever happened. God, do I need it.
I don’t normally broadcast this to people. In fact, I try to never tell anyone lest I’m deemed a leper. But here you go…I’ve been single – without a relationship – for 12 years now. Am I really going to post this? It’s mostly been my fault. I wouldn’t necessarily call it my choice, but maybe subconscious self-sabotage. I spent a few years chasing guys who were unattainable. I would get a little high school crush from afar and for the most part, they didn’t even know I existed. Mostly it was players on the minor league hockey team we had back then. I didn’t think they were unattainable at the time, of course. At any moment the guy was going to look around and glimpse me out of the corner of his eye. ~cue romantic background music~ He’d be drawn to me from across the room, and we’d ride off into the sunset together to live happily ever after. I was in my early 20’s then, not 8. Hey, it was safe! My personal safety net, if you will.
After the unattainable crushes I went through a kind of catch-and-release phase. I would like a guy – these were at least attainable. They were aware I occupied space in this world. They were great, men of my dreams until they made one unforgivable mistake. If they ever began to show interest back in me, it was over. I couldn’t run away fast enough. The guy who just days before couldn’t have been more perfect for me suddenly became revolting, and ridiculously so. Not tall enough, not funny enough, or maybe it was silly-funny which wasn’t my type at all because we all know I’m uber cool. Right. One guy had dandruff. The petty reason never really mattered, it was just my excuse to run. It didn’t have to make sense.
So now I’m past the unattainables, and I’m past the catch-and-release. Mainly it’s all good until I sense my actual feelings are involved. I don’t run anymore. I stick around and freak out until I scare them off. That fear of abandonment? Yeah.
This guy I’m supposed to be snuggling with this morning, I haven’t scared him off yet. I’ve tried, believe me. But he hasn’t left. Sounds like fate, doesn’t it? Well, it is…..if you don’t take into account that he’s not my guy. He has a girlfriend that is not me. Yes, I’m a skeez. I am that girl. I’ve never in my life allowed myself to be in a situation like this. Never. I fell into this one by accident though, and now I’m stuck.
We met on the internet and we were friends. Flirty friends, yes, but just friends. Playboy. lol That’s what I called him. It was relatively innocent, I promise. Just the more we chatted, the more drawn to him I was. And I guess vice versa. I certainly didn’t realize my feelings for him were changing until it was too late. I avoided us exchanging pictures forever, didn’t want to get too real. Then we did. I can’t even remember how we came about exchanging phone numbers, but we did that too. Now we’ve met in person three times, and you know. How did I start talking about this?
I know I’m in the world’s worst situation right now. Believe me, I feel it. I love this man more than I’ve allowed myself to love a man in a loooooong time. Of course it would be a guy who can’t be with me. To his credit, he’s honest about it (as far as I can tell). From day one he told me he had a girlfriend. And now that real feelings are involved, he tells me they’re not happy, basically just existing, but he doesn’t feed me a line about leaving her next week or whenever. He tells me he doesn’t know. And so I sit and I wait. I hope for the best, but I do know I am probably playing the fool here.
He certainly makes no secret that I am second place – if that. If she calls, he’s off the phone with me. No question. He does nothing, absolutely nothing, that would make her suspicious as far as I see. It rips my heart out, it really does. Honestly, does it mean anything but that he obviously intends on being with her and never with me? I know. I just can’t leave. He’s my boy. God, I’m an idiot.
For the most part I try to ignore the fact that she exists. Monday through Friday from about 6 in the morning until maybe 7 at night, I have a boyfriend. lol It sounds ridiculous and re-reading what I’ve already typed leads me to think maybe I should be committed. However, that’s not all there is. When it’s good, it’s like magic. We can talk for hours. We laugh, joke, and tease, but we also share ourselves with each other. Who we are, our pasts. He’s silly and I love it. That sweet, sensitive side of him…I would climb mountains to see it. He can make my heart sing. The only guy who’s been able to do that since I was 18. The guy from England I’ve mentioned before, he would have been close, and if we were physically closer may have surpassed Playboy, but that’s not how it worked out so Playboy took the lead. And my heart, as it turns out.
Well, this post certainly didn’t turn out the way I thought. lol I was thinking I’d post an update about my upcoming trip to London. Instead, I lay out one of my deep, dark secrets for all the world to see. The title of the post takes on a whole new meaning all of a sudden. This situation certainly isn’t pretty.
I hope that one day soon, I can tell you that Playboy is mine. I don’t know what he has with his actual girlfriend, but with me, I think we could have it all. That fairy tale, our own version of it. But if that isn’t going to happen…Jeez, the idea of it ending feels ugly and wrong. If that isn’t going to happen, then I hope that someone comes along who can be mine and sweeps me away. I can’t leave on my own. At least not right now. It’s pathetic and it makes me sick, but it’s true. I love him. So still I wait, for my fairy tale…
Blogging Back to the Middle 