Goodbye 2009

New Years Eve is a party holiday for, well, everyone. But for me…. okay it’s *that*, but it’s also a time of reflection. It’s the one moment when an entire year is behind you and you can see exactly where you’ve been. You have that one moment to reflect on what was and make decisions about how to change it, or not. You can take a finite measurement of time and really look at who you were and what happened. I know I’m a little crazy, but that’s pretty cool to me. So every year on this day, I find myself taking stock of what was. And tomorrow, I will take stock of what could be.

So there’s a lot about this year that I’m not proud of. There is, most notably, Big. And the fact that he nearly wrecked everything for me. There was the unforgettable moment he moved into his own apartment….. only to move back the next day. And then dump me when I put my foot down. Yeah… I’ve gotten pretty used to glossing over all of that but there it is. There is also my return to the land of common sense when I went back to LC and asked him to forgive me. He said yes, but we had a rough time of it there for a while. While it may not have been his intention to punish me, he was angry and, well, he did. And we both know that. But by the grace of 2009, we somehow rode it out together.  And now we’re here. We moved into our new apartment 10 days ago. We’re nearly unpacked. We go to bed every night together. In the last six months, our life has turned around 180 degrees.

At the beginning of last year, I was full of hope for us. I talked about giving us a real chance. I was ready. And now, at the end of the year, I am surprised to find that I actually achieved that goal. Believe me, no one is more surprised than me but facts are facts. And we may have taken the scenic route to getting here, but get here we did. And hey, at least I know now that the car we rode in can take it.

My hope for next year is to take more of a freeway to my goals, rather than the twisty windy scenic route. But all in all, this year wasn’t quite so bad after all.

Planning Ahead

This is a snippet from an actual conversation LC and I had while debating moving in together last month. We were talking about how moving in isn’t just something that we will do lightly anymore and had established (for the 40th time) that it is something we would both do with the understanding that we intend for it to be permanent. Not just a right now kind of thing, but more of an until death do us part kind of thing. Without the ceremony. Or the big question. Yet.

Then out of the sort of blue, this happened:

Me: You know, I’ll want a big ring.

Him: That might take me a while.

Me: That’s okay. I can wait.

Him: Okay.

And then we carried on talking about other things. I really do love that man.

Stranger than fiction

It all started with an email. An email from Big. Two days ago he wrote to say he hoped a milestone in my life went well for me. Of course, true to form, he was over a week late which he knew. Why he chose to write one week and one day later is beyond me. It will always be beyond me. But he did. He sent an email.

Things went downhill from there. Despite all rational logic to the contrary, I wrote back.  I just wanted him to know how well I’m doing. That he didn’t break me. That I found something better than we’d ever had. I know it’s petty, but there it is. The best revenge is living well, and I wanted him to know I had that.

So I told him about LC and I moving in together. That I was moving out of my beloved single girl pad. He knows this is something I never would have done for him. I wanted him to understand how good things are. How well it’s working out. Maybe I even wanted him to hurt just a little since it seemed he never did. Whatever, so I told him. And of, course, he wrote back again.

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Madness

And so the moving madness has begun. Now, you all don’t really know me so let me paint you a picture. Perhaps it will explain why suddenly LC is frightened of me when it comes to this move.

We applied at the apartment complex this past Thursday. So for those of you keeping track at home, that means less than a week ago. LC feels that as we have over a month until the move we have a few weeks to relax. But no, I am in moving overdrive.

As soon as we got into the car to leave the new apartment complex, I asked him if he wants to share my movers. He blinked at me confused. He wanted time to think about it. I blinked back at him. Because, you know, the movers need to be booked immediately because they can book up! And I need my movers. I assured him they’re great. Hard working and they have never broken or damaged my stuff. He was torn between finding me efficient and slightly crazed. And besides, moving to him meant a U-Haul truck and a few of his closest friends. I tapped my foot impatiently. He begged for time to think.

By Sunday, he had agreed that sharing the movers was wise. After all, friendship is only good for so much. I explained for me movers are a necessity. There is no one in this world who loves me enough to cart my giant sofa down from my third floor walk up apartment without getting paid in more than pizza and beer. He said he’d share the movers with me. By Monday afternoon they were booked and we had a confirmation letter.

I am ready to call the utilities. I am searching for boxes. I am pondering how to break the news to my cleaning ladies. (Let them see the boxes piling up, or warn them that our relationship has almost run its course? What if they clean less effiiciently because they know I’m leaving them? And how will I work the move out cleaning?) I have a plan for turning in my keys early to my rental office since we’ll be on Christmas vacation when the lease is up. I have lists of what goes into storage and what doesn’t. And I’m one step away from buying stickers so I can color code things for the movers. Oh yes, it’s like this.

LC didn’t see all that coming. He wanted someone to share responsibilities, but he never anticipated the crazy train he was hopping on until this is all over. This is why I had to know he really loved me first. Because otherwise he’d probably run for his life.

Poor LC. He hasn’t even considered how insane the unpacking situation might be. I tried to warn him, but he never saw this coming. Now who has spare boxes to give me?

Parking Lot Confessions

Him: So what do you think about moving in?

Me: (hedging) What do you think?

Him: I’d really like to do it. I miss you when you’re not around.

Me: (hedging some more)

Him: Just say it. Whatever it is.

Me: Moving in is kind of a permanent decision for me.

Him: For me too. I can’t imagine a life without you.

Me: (gooey eyes)

One Year Ago

One year ago last week, I decided to accept a date with a guy I wasn’t sure of. Our communications had been stop and start, but they had started again and he seemed nice enough. I hedged accepting the date since he was rather short. But I wasn’t making any effort to set up dates myself anymore and I decided maybe I was being superficial anyway. So I said yes.

One year ago last weekend, I was examining his online photos. I couldn’t tell exactly what he looked like as they weren’t necessarily the best things in the world. He might have been cute or he might have been funny looking. I was hoping for cute. I was bracing for funny looking.

One year ago last weekend, I almost canceled our date and decided never to go out with him. He told me about his divorce and it hadn’t been as far away as I might have liked. I was afraid of rebounds or lingering attachments. My own healing process was still fresh in my mind. I almost called things off, but then I didn’t. What harm could one date do anyway, right?

One year ago today, I met him for brunch. We were the same height. And he was totally cute and not funny looking. I wore a top I would later learn was flashing him a bit too much cleavage when I leaned forward. He didn’t stare.

One year ago today, we were having such a good conversation over brunch that we moved downstairs to the bar area and kept talking. That date lasted about six hours. For the most part, I forgot he was short. And I wondered why I’d let our initial conversations be so stop and start.

One year ago today, I was too cautious to imagine what might come of a six hour date with a cute guy who was my height. I did like that he picked up the tab and walked me to my car. I liked the hug he gave me as we said goodbye. I liked that he followed up with me immediately to ask me out again. But I was too careful to imagine what might happen next.

One year ago today, I met LC. I remember every detail of that date. I remember what we wore, what we ate, and what we drank. I remember how good the conversation was. I remember thinking maybe the height thing wasn’t so big a deal… maybe.I remember thinking he seemed pretty well adjusted about his divorce after all.  I remember looking for what would be wrong this time that would make it not work.

What I don’t remember is ever imagining that one year later we’d still be together. That height really wouldn’t be a big deal. That I would eventually be filled with hope. That we would be strong enough to overcome so many obstacles together. And yet, here we are.

What happened last week was a miscommunication. I still find hoping and believing to be difficult, and sometimes I react first and ask questions later. LC and I have done a lot of soul searching together in the past week or so. But I think it all boils down to something he said to me in the dark this last Thursday night, just before we fell asleep. Just like that, he told me his life is better because I’m in it.

One year ago today I could never have imagined how much I would love him or how much I would want to remain in his life. But today, I know. And I do. And I will. One year ago today we started something great. Here’s hoping there will be many more years of looking back at it all fondly and looking forward to what may come.

Fall

Traditionally fall is a season of change for me. Leaves fall, school years begin, and major life changes take place. In fall I have started new jobs, gotten divorced, met people who will change my life, and sold my house. It’s something about the season that just equals life changes for me like no other. It’s my season, even though in later years it has often been a painful one. I love the cooler temperatures and the trees changing colors. I just love the smell of it. Even though fall has hurt me so often, it is somehow fundamental to who I am.

This fall I can feel things shifting. Things inside me are moving and changing under my skin. I don’t know yet if it’s for the best, but it’s happening.

Last fall I met LC. In fact, in 6 days it will be exactly one year since we met. This fall I am supposed to be giving notice at my apartment. The place that has been all mine, my very first living space that ever was just for me… I’m supposed to promise to leave it this fall. That is the plan. LC and I have looked at apartments, talked about what goes into storage and what stays, and decided which bed we’re going to sleep in. We have a plan.

Last night I asked LC why he wanted to move in with me. He said “Because I like spending time with you.” It was dark and he couldn’t see my face. There was silence. LC broke the silence to ask why I wanted to move in with him. I told him “Because I love you and I want to start building a life with you.” And then I wondered if he could see the difference too. Because now it’s something I can’t forget.

Some year I’ll probably start to hate the fall. I wonder if this year will be it.

Even in Imperfection

These days I’m in new territory. Uncharted waters, you might say.For the first time since… well, since I was in college quite frankly… I am not trying to run from something.

LC and I have been hitting our first real bump in the road lately. I know I know, we had all those breakups and stuff. But that was before, and this is now. That was a life we don’t even remember all that much anymore. We’re in such a different place. And in our new and different place, we finally lost our harmony for a little bit.

I’m not going to hash over what’s been going on. It’s really irrelevant. Just trust me when I say that it has been (and probably will be for a bit longer) the first test of what we are and what we hope to become together. After almost a year (!!!) of dating, it’s probably kind of overdue, to be honest.

So here we are, and we’re both struggling a bit. And things started to churn around in my head. Things about how I’ve handled the tough stuff in the past. Hell, even in my last marriage. Things about what my new steps should be. And then it happened. I was floating off in my own head churning in some deep internal waters, and LC made me pay attention again.

He said, “I love you and I want to work this out together.” And I knew.

I knew that for once, I didn’t want to run. I knew that this time, I wanted to work it out together too. For once in my one date wonder of a life, I wasn’t threatening to leave or wondering what I should move on to. I wasn’t picturing how my life could be without him. For once, I wanted to work things out too.

I realized a life without LC would be… well, something I don’t want to think about. And even if I could fabricate all the “right reasons” in the world for picking up and leaving (which I can’t, by the way), if I did that I would simply miss him too much. My days would drag by without his emails. My nights would stretch on without his company. I’d lose my head every time there was a wine dinner or a cool event that we could no longer go to together. He would leave a giant LC-shaped hole in my life and it simply wouldn’t be okay.

And when I knew that, when I really knew? It was okay. Sure, it doesn’t make all the rough magically disappear. But the rough, it’s okay. It happens. And working through it together sounds downright fun compared to losing what I have found.

So yeah, maybe everything isn’t absolutely coming up roses right now. But it will be again soon. And even though everything isn’t totally perfect right now, I know I’m right where I belong. And I’m able to be happy even in our imperfection.

Catch Up

Let’s play catch up.

Since my last post riddled with insecurity, LC and I have of course discussed the state of affairs. I learned he has deliberately let his lease go month to month so we have options when my lease is up. (I even learned it without prompting on my part, thank you very much.) He learned I’m still feeling a little shaky. We both learned how the other sees this situation and is feeling, and some compromises are being reached. Together. In a productive-like way. Who knew?

Also, you’ll notice in the above paragraph that it seems I will be moving house at the end of this year. That, my dears, is the plan. It will be nice for a lot of reasons. I mean, no more packing overnight bags or stashing toiletries under sinks. No more realizing when I get out of the shower that my good hair dryer was forgotten at home. No more uncomfortable bed. No more leaving things behind and only figuring out too late. And no more discussions of “Your place or mine?”

And, as hard as this is to believe, if you ignore our little month hiatus (which we’ve decided to do) we have been together for 11 months. Almost a year.  Not too shabby for a little one date wonder, huh?

Inside my mind

Before I start to write this, please understand that LC and I are fundamentally okay. No one is breaking up with anyone (to the best of my knowledge). We are in love. This is just where my head is today.

For the first time since I’ve really known him, I am insecure with LC. I feel off balance. I am questioning the things I thought were fundamental. I’m crying. I want to grab onto him and have him comfort me, and yet that is the very last thing I need to be doing right now.

Before the Facebook bitch, before LC knew about the debacle with Big, before when we were (sort of) just the two of us, LC said all he wanted was to be with me. He said being with me was better than playing on the computer. He said he’d spend every night with me if he could. He said he wished I would see him more. He said he would come and watch me do housework just to be near me. I felt wanted and loved. And in turn, I fell for him. For me, that was the largest part of his charm. Of course there were other things. Similar interests. How well he treats me. But above them all was the way he clearly wanted me. He wanted to spend every night together and the only reason we didn’t was because I needed more space. He would do anything to lure me to his place more often. He wanted to move in together.

Then we broke up. Damage was done to both of us. I know that changes things. But despite it all we still loved each other, and we found each other again. And now we are here, just the two of us. There is no girl he flirts with when I’m not looking. There is no guy I sleep with when he’s not looking. There are no secrets. There is only us. And I have finally let go. I have finally let myself want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with me. I have opened myself up completely and laid myself bare. He has all of me whenever he wants it.

In my mind, this meant we’d spend the tons of time together he always wanted. It meant we could be what he always asked for and thought of. And yes, it meant we could move in together when logistics allowed. I have been mentally prepping for the move. I have been spending tons of time with him. I have been hoping and believing and allowing him into every corner of my life and heart.

But it has all changed. The story isn’t the same anymore. He’d rather be on the computer than curled up with me. He doesn’t want to spend every night with me. I’m crowding him and jamming myself into his life in places he doesn’t necessarily want me. He no longer dreams of sharing a living space with me. It’s almost like the age old truth about men loving the chase. I was more interesting when I wasn’t giving him everything. Now that I am, his needs have all shifted beneath me. The playing field is entirely different and I’m playing the wrong game.

I need to back off. I need to close up. I need to pull back. Because I feel like he liked it better when I was unavailable. He wanted more and gave me more then. And I’m not talking about dinners out or gifts that come in boxes or cost money. I’m talking about him. He offered more of himself when I was offering less. And I can’t help but think I need to offer less again. I need to be more distant. I need to pull back.

When I was somewhat closed off from him, I was protected and safe. And yes, the way he wanted me made me fall for him. But he never had all of me. It’s like that made him work harder to get it. And I don’t want him to feel like he has to work to be with me. But the bottom line is that now I feel rejected. I feel like I offered what he had always asked for and it’s nothing he wants. I don’t know how else to describe it so I’ll say it again. I feel rejected.

In my mind, I was beginning to firmly believe that we could move in together when my lease is up. Today I finally decided we will most likely not do that. That it is no longer what he sees when he closes his eyes. That our future is no longer a dream of his, only of mine. And this makes me remember why I guarded my heart so closely. Because every time I let go, this happens. Every time. And the dream of a man wanting this much of me… well, it’s exactly that. A dream.

I love him. I love him madly. I am so far in I don’t know where the exit door is anymore. And I haven’t looked for it in a long time. I don’t want out, and I don’t want to play games. And this rejection, however small it is compared to the beast in my mind, it is huge to me. It reminds me that although men say they don’t want the game-playing, so many really do. Because when I let go, when I relax, this is always the end result.

He knows how I feel, it’s not a surprise. For the record, he also knows about this blog and that I still write. The agreement is that I write nothing I wouldn’t (and don’t) talk to him about. At some point or another I have said all of these things to him. I have looked him in the eye and told him I felt more loved when he thought he had to beat Big. I may not have strung these thoughts into one conversation for him, but I have said it all. I don’t know if he hears or not. I don’t know that that even really matters. All I know is that I have to find a way to pull back. I have to find a way to slam shut some of the doors I struggled to open for him. I shouldn’t have laid myself out like that. I should have been more careful.

I’m scared for us. Opening up and closing down are both very hard for me. It cost me so much to let go. And it will cost me that much more to pull back. We need to be a weekend only kind of couple again. Those are the only times he enjoys with me. I need to be a part-time girlfriend. Or so it feels to me. I need to hope that will make him want more of me again.

He knows I’m upset about something now. It was too much for me to tell him all of this in one go, so I shrugged. He told me over and over that he loves me and he isn’t leaving me. And in my mind, all I know for sure is that is what they always say right before they go.