I have a hard time with patience and moderation. When something sparkles, I want to surround myself with it all the time. While I know slowing down will allow me to not take anything for granted and to appreciate things I have overlooked in the past, right now old habits are dying hard. Maybe I am just haunted by too many ghosts from the past. Even more reason to take things slow, right? My attention span with dating is diminishing and has been for a couple of years, so can someone point me in the direction of a crash course in taking things slowly and savoring every last drop so I don't have to keep starting over?
Last month I went to meet a boy… I took a little road trip over a long weekend and set off to do something I’d never done before. It was about a 3 hour drive and I tried as hard as I could to keep my nerves in check, but the mere sound of his voice flustered me, so it was a useless attempt. While driving, I talked to a friend who had gone through an almost identical experience last summer trying to give myself a reality check. But the truth is I was a lost cause. I had been talking to this man every day for three months. Constant emailing daily, more three hour phone calls than I can count, text conversations, online chats… you get the idea. The longest period of time between communications is while we were sleeping. And even then, he'd still found a way into my head. He challenged me to explore myself more and sparked a yet untouched area of my soul... and oh how I crave those that inspire me.
We had made plans for me to visit in April, but at the last minute, I couldn’t go. I was afraid of the inevitable changes that would take place and I liked our situation as it was. I knew meeting would change everything, we would either be more intense or he’d start to fade away. I’ve experienced the latter more than I care to admit and I wasn’t ready for it again. But here I was, a month later, circling his house for the third time. My nerves were out of control… that stupid voice that had been following me around for the last month grew louder as I pulled into the driveway, ‘Savor this. Enjoy it while it lasts.’
My phone buzzed.
Him: Where are you now?
Me: I’m in your driveway ;)
I saw the front door open and panic filled my entire body. I sprung from my car and tried to gain control of myself once again. He turned the corner of the driveway and before I could exhale, he was standing in front of me. I felt my whole body blush. He hugged me and as I felt his hand on my back, I felt it starting… my self doubt was taking hold. Am I going to be able to keep the conversation going through my nerves? What if we don’t click in person like we have on the phone? What if I’m not what he envisioned; heavier, not as pretty, what if nervous habits annoy him? How much of attraction to another person is physical and how much is intellectual? The conversations and emails always flowed, even the few times we argued, there was still a spark, still a desire for more. What if this is just an intellectual-emotional attachment? As we parted and headed into the house, he turned and as I caught the faint scent of Black, one of my weaknesses, I smiled and shook my head.
Most of the trip was spent inside, lounging around, watching movies and chatting. It was comfortable and easy. Finally being able to put everything together; the voice, the eyes, the smile, the feeling of him next to me, his scent, was almost surreal. This level of comfort with him I hadn’t anticipated, yet hesitation and insecurity was still thick in the air. Why? My head races now trying to figure out what everything meant… I left Sunday morning more uncertain than when I arrived. What had just taken place? What am I supposed to do next? What do I want to do next? The one thing I was certain about was my biggest fear… a part of me missed him already and there wasn’t an end to it in sight. I started my car and heard the familiar tone of that stupid voice, “Savor this. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Music loud, I took my time driving home, letting the weekend’s experiences penetrate through me.
Here I am a month later, with even more questions than when I left. What the hell happened? We’re going backwards, not forwards. I sit here weekend after weekend, thinking, I’m not doing shit this weekend and neither is he and I find myself reaching the same conclusion each time – I’m never going to see him again. And I don’t really want to face that completely today. I’m not able to sit on my hands and watch something passively from the sidelines when I see something great and felt something great… I tend towards embracing it in an attempt to have it.
I keep hearing this everywhere, even if I’m not talking about him, “if he wanted to be with you, he would. End of story.” Is that really the end of the story? Long distance relationships are tricky, right? Have we reached our relaxation period or have I found another emotionally unavailable, commitment-phobic man who just isn’t that into me? Maybe, I just miss the anticipation; miss having something to look forward to. I miss the butterflies and I’m a little disappointed they moved on so quickly.
Last month I went to meet a boy… I took a little road trip over a long weekend and set off to do something I’d never done before. It was about a 3 hour drive and I tried as hard as I could to keep my nerves in check, but the mere sound of his voice flustered me, so it was a useless attempt. While driving, I talked to a friend who had gone through an almost identical experience last summer trying to give myself a reality check. But the truth is I was a lost cause. I had been talking to this man every day for three months. Constant emailing daily, more three hour phone calls than I can count, text conversations, online chats… you get the idea. The longest period of time between communications is while we were sleeping. And even then, he'd still found a way into my head. He challenged me to explore myself more and sparked a yet untouched area of my soul... and oh how I crave those that inspire me.
We had made plans for me to visit in April, but at the last minute, I couldn’t go. I was afraid of the inevitable changes that would take place and I liked our situation as it was. I knew meeting would change everything, we would either be more intense or he’d start to fade away. I’ve experienced the latter more than I care to admit and I wasn’t ready for it again. But here I was, a month later, circling his house for the third time. My nerves were out of control… that stupid voice that had been following me around for the last month grew louder as I pulled into the driveway, ‘Savor this. Enjoy it while it lasts.’
My phone buzzed.
Him: Where are you now?
Me: I’m in your driveway ;)
I saw the front door open and panic filled my entire body. I sprung from my car and tried to gain control of myself once again. He turned the corner of the driveway and before I could exhale, he was standing in front of me. I felt my whole body blush. He hugged me and as I felt his hand on my back, I felt it starting… my self doubt was taking hold. Am I going to be able to keep the conversation going through my nerves? What if we don’t click in person like we have on the phone? What if I’m not what he envisioned; heavier, not as pretty, what if nervous habits annoy him? How much of attraction to another person is physical and how much is intellectual? The conversations and emails always flowed, even the few times we argued, there was still a spark, still a desire for more. What if this is just an intellectual-emotional attachment? As we parted and headed into the house, he turned and as I caught the faint scent of Black, one of my weaknesses, I smiled and shook my head.
Most of the trip was spent inside, lounging around, watching movies and chatting. It was comfortable and easy. Finally being able to put everything together; the voice, the eyes, the smile, the feeling of him next to me, his scent, was almost surreal. This level of comfort with him I hadn’t anticipated, yet hesitation and insecurity was still thick in the air. Why? My head races now trying to figure out what everything meant… I left Sunday morning more uncertain than when I arrived. What had just taken place? What am I supposed to do next? What do I want to do next? The one thing I was certain about was my biggest fear… a part of me missed him already and there wasn’t an end to it in sight. I started my car and heard the familiar tone of that stupid voice, “Savor this. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Music loud, I took my time driving home, letting the weekend’s experiences penetrate through me.
Here I am a month later, with even more questions than when I left. What the hell happened? We’re going backwards, not forwards. I sit here weekend after weekend, thinking, I’m not doing shit this weekend and neither is he and I find myself reaching the same conclusion each time – I’m never going to see him again. And I don’t really want to face that completely today. I’m not able to sit on my hands and watch something passively from the sidelines when I see something great and felt something great… I tend towards embracing it in an attempt to have it.
I keep hearing this everywhere, even if I’m not talking about him, “if he wanted to be with you, he would. End of story.” Is that really the end of the story? Long distance relationships are tricky, right? Have we reached our relaxation period or have I found another emotionally unavailable, commitment-phobic man who just isn’t that into me? Maybe, I just miss the anticipation; miss having something to look forward to. I miss the butterflies and I’m a little disappointed they moved on so quickly.
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