Well my lovely readers, I hope you all have had a fabulous summer; can you believe it's already coming to a close? Since starting to put this "drama" and insanity down in SOME form apart from my diary and from talking my gal pals' ears off in philosophizing, I have to say, this is incredibly therapeutic. I hope it's helping someone else too! That being said, I'm gonna speed up on these stories since I've spent enough brainpower on these silly boys. Don't need to waste a ton more webspace!
Not having seen C. in close to 3 weeks was killing me after having 3 intense "dates". My co-workers teased and were excited for me, since they knew this was my first recurring date-partner/sorta-boyfriend. Since he said he wouldn't be into town til closer to 6 and I was done at 5, I figured I'd get the El and change my clothes in Suburban Station before waiting in the park. Yet when I left the courtyard at work and started to turn down the street to the El, who should be waiting outside?
The rest of the time was our typical "date" - making out in public, laughing a lot. I asked if he wanted to come to my house the next night when I was home from work, since then on Sunday I didn't have to go anywhere. The answer was yes.
Again, the next day was crazy. We ate real quick, and he asked if there was anywhere nearby to climb to the roof. This was and apparently still is a predilection of his, climbing things (he's now dating a trapeze artist. MAKES PERFECT SENSE, SERIOUSLY.) I thought for a second, and said "There's an elementary school that---" and before I could finish, he's pushing me out the door. We reach the grounds, and start climbing onto a dumpster, then to the janitorial doorway roof, then to the ACTUAL roof. I had some trouble trying to jump from level to level, equating it laughingly with Mario leaping from man-eating plant to brick wall, but C. does his best to pull me along and motivate me.
We saw each other a couple of times during the following week, either going to a playground near him or hanging out at my house. Then he said "My parents are gonna be gone for a long weekend, wanna stay over?" It was a very bipolar long weekend; veering from the childish fun we'd been having to his being very moody the 3rd night. I didn't question him about it, feeling tired myself. Not quite what I'd had in mind. Thus began a pattern where we'd talk all day, but because of our work schedules and whatever he supposedly had to do for the family, we wouldn't have time to ourselves til the late evening. Again, NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND. It was starting to feel more like booty calls within an exclusive relationship. Beginning of the next month, I was going out to San Francisco for the 4th of July to see one of my best friends; which was not only a great trip anyway, but also good for ME since I had time to myself without him bugging me or monopolizing my mind.
Upon returning, we saw each other CONSTANTLY again. A long-term temp job was lined up, so I had good money in my pocket and something to further distract me from some doubts I was starting to have about C. After a couple more lovely weekends, the [somewhat] unexpected happened, and he said he couldn't handle the long-distance when he went back to school. I was devastated, but honestly, I realize now that I would've gotten over him MUCH faster if he just stopped talking to me after we had a tearful goodbye. Many of you out there have likely had the terrible experience of having fun with a guy for a few dates, then you sleep with him and then never hear from him again; you know, THAT sort of sleaziness. Maybe it's just "the grass is always greener" mentality, but I really would've preferred that to being strung along forever (i.e. almost an entire year. You tell me what you'd rather have when your "sort-of ex" makes a point of repeatedly saying "I miss you! By the way, I'm sleeping with other people!") I laugh at myself now for being hung-up on him for so long when we really didn't have that much to talk about, but perhaps it's the classic "First Love" scenario.
WHAT I LEARNED: I will never, never, EVER let a man/boy completely take over my mind. When we split, I noticed I'd sort of let my own interests slip away from me - so it was a blessing-in-disguise: I rediscovered my drawings, my music, actual movies and not just cartoons...good stuff. To paraphrase Helen Gurley Brown, "A man should be an addition to your life; not take it over." Bryan Ferry may have sang "Love is the Drug", but remember that those lyrics are about *lust* more than "love". And there was my issue with C. - lots of fun, we did care about each other, but if he REALLY did care for me, he would've tried to make a go of it. And I can't let lust get in the way of my own self-preservation and sanity - or at the very least, go into a situation knowing that anything can happen, so I can't get my hopes up in the short-term. But it doesn't mean I can't handle some fun in the meantime...
NEXT TIME: bouncing back into the dating scene; focusing on ME; lessons on men from Mae West & friends.
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