18 Dec 2007 › 4:09pm
Ah… the dignified inter-workings of a budding relationship. How could I have possibly forgotten the sheer bliss? How could I have forgotten the insecure fumbling, the frequent free-falls into bottomless shame spirals, the subtle power struggles, the ever-changing emotional temperature of the relationship that demands constant analysis? I’ll tell you how. The mind, by design, refuses to remember these details in order to propagate the human race. If any of us remembered this shit clearly we’d never have another relationship and civilization would fizzle out. Allow me to break it off.
Remember my weekend under the covers? Here’s how the following week played out.
1. Monday – Bloke doesn’t call.
2. Tuesday – Bloke doesn’t call.
3. Wednesday – Bloke calls. I play it cool. Too cool. Several days without a ring-ding-a-ling have hardened my heart and I backslide into my standard, emotionally removed, take-it-or-leave it phone manner. Bloke hangs up sounding confused.
4. Thursday – Bloke texts me, CAN WE TALK? I fear a kissoff. But think—well, at least he’s ballsy enough to do an In Person. Bravo, or bully for you or what-the-fuck-ever.
5. Friday – meet Bloke for coffee after work, expecting some version of the “I’m not ready for a relationship” speech. Whereupon Bloke tells me that he’s totally into me and that I’m acting squirrelly and did he do something to freak me out? I guess he wondered if he had worn out his welcome by staying at my apartment all weekend (Oh yeah, he did stay at MY place. I kind of forgot that detail duh!). So he thought he’d give me breathing room on Monday and Tuesday, blah blah snore.
Yeah. Anyway the week was emotionally exhausting for both of us—when in fact not a damn thing happened. Tell me, will I ever grow out of this sort of thing? Or is this the nature of all relationships? Please tell me it gets less pathetic! Idiot shivers all around.
