Monday, March 1, 2010

Instincts, Guts, Heart, It's All The Same, and I Go with Them All

It was not logic, or my sense of reason, or my over-abundance of quarters that got me through the turn style and onto the train that carried me to my crying best friend in the basement of her house when I was 16.

It went like this, I called her, to see what she was doing that night.

Her: (audibly crying*) Hello?
Me: Hey? Are you okay?
Her: (between sobs** and halfheartedly) Yeah...
Her: If you can.

*This is the second time ever, in 10 years at that point, I had ever seen/heard her crying.
**CRYING! She never cried, I cry. My heart was racing.

At that point I put on pants and gathered my quarters and ran to the Diversey Brownline and got on and waited again at Belmont for a redline and as soon as the doors of the redline closed, I burst into tears.

A middle-aged woman: Are you okay, dear?
Me: (through tears, and nearly shouting) MY BEST FRIEND NEEDS ME!

When I got there I found out the trouble had been a fight with her mom, and I think later that night we cut and dyed our hair for the first of what would amount to many times.

I am maternal- not in the way that I am ready for babies, because I am not, at all, ready for babies. I am not with the man I want to be with forever, I am still younger than young and I am not setting any long-term plans.

But I am a hugger. I am a nurturer. Come into my house and you can be assured I will offer you my last slice of pizza, my last sip of pop, anything, for you. I care endlessly, mercilessly. It can be troublesome.

Also, I am mostly levelheaded. I have about zilch will-power, and just this side of none self-control, but I try to be logical, and reasonable. That being said, I am also certifiably boy-crazy.

Right now, it is mostly one boy in particular. I mean, he is more of a guy, and then there is the man that I have been with for 2 years and that's where my guts are confused.

I think it's my guts that wake me up in a fit every morning lately. I shoot up to a sitting position in bed, I am sweating and disoriented. Maybe it's because I have a touch of a cold, or maybe because I am totally smitten with a man more than twice my age, and also feel this strange undeniable spark with someone new, and different, and my age. The age thing doesn't bother me. Neither of the ages. They are just different men.

I feel so childish in my double-standard with my relationship, though. I mean, I feel fine with myself filled with warm-fuzzies for someone I am only starting to get to know, but the idea that John might be even vaguely interested in someone else, chews at my fingertips. Not for long though, because I remember that this is for now. John is what I want, and what I need right now, and he has said that at least now and for the foreseeable not-too-long-term future, he wants to be with me, and that is beyond okay, straight over to ideal. I enjoy John now, as in, the immediate present and in the upcoming months, probably some years, but there is no way he is the person I want to be with forever. He is distant, and his priority is his work, and my forever will not see life that way. John doesn't want a forever with anyone but himself and his work, which I figure is plenty respectable. Plus, if I set my sights on 'til deaths with this man, I know I would be left drowning in his wake.

I actually feel a great security in that we aren't going anywhere. It's easy, it's safe. There are no expectations on either side, and it's made for very little, if any fighting, ever, and pretty much the easiest, most stress-less relationship I have ever been in.

Of course I love him. I am a lover.

And he doesn't need to love me, because that isn't what this is about.

This is about guts, so I have colossally digressed, but I am sitting in his room, in my favorite chair, the chair that he gave me, and he is presumably asleep in bed, and I have a lot on my mind, and my gut is getting smaller.

This is already too long.

I'll hug pretty much anyone who asks, and at 3:43, at this exact moment, in my house dress and barefeet and minor congestion, I almost even want to hug you. I respect your position, and can see in him what can leave behind such devastation that takes a lot of time, if it can at all be repaired. I understand, but I don't think I'll ever know exactly. You will never get what you need or want out of him, and he will never love me, because he is an asshole, and an idiot, this I can see even through the rose colored glasses.

But none the less, for now, I adore him.

And now my gut just wants to curl up in bed, and sleep until Tuesday.

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