Sunday Michelle and I had a conversation about how things were going with Mark (yeah, we're using real names now. Michelle=Mia, Mark=Gabriel and Grant still is Grant because his name is pretty unusual and he's job hunting right now) where I basically said that I don't have any idea how things are going. I mean, I do. And I don't.
I really like him. I'm pretty sure he quite likes me. (Side note: supposedly he doesn't/hasn't read my blog, which is just mind boggling to me. Not going to lie, if I knew he had a personal blog I'd be all over that shit. I mean c'mon, wouldn't you want to know what kind of crazy you were getting yourself into? ) We haven't really talked about any relationshipy stuff. There's usually a few days a week where we exchange cute/flirty text messages and that's pretty much it. I'm not saying there needs to be more, when it comes down to it we've only been on three dates. Sure, the first two he ended up staying the weekend so it seems like more but it has actually only been three. I told Michelle I was really just trying to not worry about it and that really I didn't know what I wanted right now because thinking about it on top of all the other stuff I'm dealing with right now just seemed like too much because I know, being me, I would analyze and analyze and analyze.
So what did I do? Do I have to answer that question?
I thought about it. I thought some more.
Fuck, I'm still thinking about it. That's why I'm writing. So I can maybe make some sense out of my thoughts.
Right now I'm struggling with whether I'm ok with the fact that he lives a couple of hours away because I really am ok with it and can only deal with that level of relationship anyways or if I like it because I'm doing the choose someone somewhat unavailable so I can always have a foot out the door thing. I think I actually like it (for now) because it forces things to go a little slower than my normal break neck speed. I also think part of it is that I don't know if I have the emotional energy to be there for anyone except myself for the moment and this arrangement allows for that. But, as I told Michelle, while I'd probably be ok with having casual sex with somebody right now rather than a relationship, it couldn't be with him. I just couldn't. He's so exactly my type it's stupid.
(Have I mentioned that he looked at the calendar for the ballet? Because he did. We hadn't even talked about it since our first date.)
Stupid and terrifying. And not terrifying in the, "Hey, let's just jump off this cliff without a parachute and see what happens" way like it was with Matt and the douche (obviously with very very different results). But terrifying in the "I actually want to take away the witty banter and holding you an arms length away emotionally," sort of way. The really, truly scary "You could be someone I want to hold hands with on the narrow path that will keep me from going over that cliff and all the rest of them," way.
I don't know that I'm ready for that. I know it would be really easy for me to say I'm not in a place where I can handle a relationship but I think the real reason might be that I'm more frightened of the possibility of another failed relationship than actually not able to cope. Self sabotage again.
This is what I know after actually letting my feeling sink into myself rather than ignoring them: I really like him. I don't care if I just made a lot of somewhat impulsive major life decisions and the prudent thing to do would be to get myself together before even thinking about dating in the first place. Kind of too great to pass up. Kind of falling for him.
Here's hoping he feels the same.