There once was a time when I handled my romantic relationships like a caveman. Not even a cavewoman. A caveman.

Despite having grown up in a family full of (questionably) happily married couples, I never had any formal training when it came to learning how to form my own relationships. Did any of you? Hmm. Perhaps I mistook the Dating 101 seminar invitation for junk mail… or bills. *Shudder* I always make sure to throw my bills into the recycling bin straight away. It’s good for the environment, you know.

Anyhow, unlike the whole birds and the bees thing (from which I naively took away the message, “Never, ever, ever touch boys”), my mother never sat me down and explained what I should and should not do if I hoped to maintain a successful partnership with a member of the opposite sex.

I didn’t have any siblings to ask, and although I’d grow to have friends who also dated, I wasn’t about to pick their brains about something so serious. Besides, I was fairly confident that they didn’t know what they were doing either. It seemed like a much better idea to wing it. And so, I did.

Turns out I was a relational caveman. No contemplation. No patience. No decorum. No idea what the heck I was doing. It was simply, “Me like. Me want. Me take. Me bored. Me throw away. Me like new thing now. You go away.” And the cycle would repeat itself.

 

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That was my entire dating ethos from age 13-27. That was also not a very good ethos to have. Although I can’t say that disloyalty was an issue for me, I did have a hard time with commitment. It was something I wanted, but when it came down to getting serious, I would become fearful.

The moment my relationship started to make me feel too comfortable, too safe, too loved or too vulnerable, I would jump ship. Sabotage became my middle name because the notion of me finding someone who would truly love me seemed far too unrealistic. Today’s post explores the beginning twinges of fear that I experienced while seeing Adam. Oh, and then there was another guy, wasn’t there? I’d better give you a little back story on him too. I wouldn’t want you getting lost in the impending drama this early on.

For (very near) future reference, Duane was the guy I was dating before I met Adam. He had been away for a really long time due to work, which caused some problems in our relationship. At one point, I was under the impression that we were dunzo, and we were going to go our separate ways. I met Adam, fell for him, and the rest was history. Interestingly enough, today’s post goes back to the day I learned that Duane and I hadn’t been on the same page regarding our “ended” relationship… at all. In fact, we were in totally different books, each located in a different galaxy.

 

October 4, 2006

 

Duane called this morning.

You should have heard him. It was like everything was normal. His nonchalant and distant dismissal of me was gone with the wind. He started spouting off at the mouth about coming up with his best friend… how we could all go to Vegas together for some rock concert. I told him that I didn’t think I could go, that my boyfriend wouldn’t like it. That was when he hung up on me. Well, no, he cussed me out then hung up.

He never let me explain. I didn’t cheat on him. I hate cheaters. It’s just that he ignored me for so long. No texts. No calls. No emails. Nothing! Meanwhile, he could manage to get on Myspace to chat up everything that breathes. I did wait for him. I waited for six friggin’ months. What did he expect me to do in my situation? I know it isn’t my fault, but I feel bad. If I’d known he cared still… I don’t know.

Overall, I’ve been fairly unproductive today. I have had the sickest feeling festering in the pit of my stomach all day long. I didn’t go into work, which was perhaps the first mistake that I made today. The second was answering the phone. Adam got mad that I did. So jealous. But now I’m sort of sorry I did too.

The neglected laundry was finally washed, dried and folded/hung. I looked up cars that I don’t need to try to afford. And after all of this, I managed to bicker with my best friend K., get into another argument with Adam, and begin sinking into the all too familiar cloudiness that is depression. But on the positive side of things, I haven’t eaten in three days. I’d say today was a stark raving success, wouldn’t you?

It’s always something, I swear. I try so hard to keep my life together, but no matter what, there’s always some area that manages to fall to pieces right as other areas are starting to look up. This relationship stuff is too much at times. No, not relationships in general— my relationship with Adam in particular.

I’m becoming more and more scared as each day goes by. It takes everything I have inside of me to not want to shut down and retreat into some damp hole in the ground. The more time that I spend with him, and the more memories that we create together… it all wreaks havoc within me. I’m terribly conflicted by the fact that we no longer seem to be seeing things eye to eye. About love. About life. About us.

“We’ve not been together that long,” he says. Yeah, no kidding, Sherlock Holmes. Where do you get all of your information? You must really have the inside scoop! Let’s completely forget the fact that he’s the one who opened the floodgates talking about “our future together”, asking me if he’s “Mr. Right”. Well, he might have been until we spoke earlier. Petulant git. He’s looking more like Mr. Right Out The Door to me at the moment! I know we’ll be right back to normal before long though.

My wants are always getting me into merciless trouble and that’s something I really need to get a grip on. I feel completely lost for the time being… I don’t know where I am, where I’ve been, or where I’m going.

The decisions I have to make are something I seriously struggle with these days. Each corner that I turn has a demon lurking in the shadows, just waiting to lunge out and make my life that much more complicated. I’m just glad that I only have two more days left to the week.

A lot of my despair involves finances. I hate the fact that I won’t get paid until the 15th. I’m still a week and a half away from that. It’s awful. I have bills that are due— namely a Cingular bill that is going to leave me broker than broke. It’s just always something, as I said. It isn’t a crisis, but something nonetheless.

I have a million concerns coursing through my head these days, but not a single place to go to seek refuge… except for Adam. We had a pretty long discussion via text earlier this afternoon (after our tiff). Gosh, I wanted to spill my heart out to him. However, my apprehensive little mind wouldn’t grant me the satisfaction.

He tried to guess the reason for my dismal mood. Though his inquiries brushed upon the essence of what was bothering me, they didn’t quite hit the nail on the head. He’s a clever one, my darling love, but not perceptive enough to grasp the entire situation fully. He did try though. Forever would never be long enough, but I’d take a life with him and get as close to it as I could, if I could.

People can say what they want. They can do what they want. They can hate me or even congratulate me for it. My friends and family can groan, they can moan, or they could wish us the best of luck. The sky can grow dark and cloudy, mist up, or clear into a brilliant blue like a Tahitian summer’s ocean. The world can watch generations be born, only to live their lives before being sent to cold graves. The calendar can turn its pages as the seasons match its unfaltering pace.

My love and I can go through the ups and downs, the ins and outs, as many times as deemed necessary, but I know the love I have for him shall not waiver, shall not wain, shall not whither, rot, or fall into disrepair.

What does time matter to a love like ours?

No, forever wouldn’t be nearly long enough for us, but if he were to offer it to me here and now, I’d take it.

 

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Written by nellsinaeternum

Just a girl lost in a daydream who is trying her best to color inside of the lines like everyone else, but is finding the act of smearing watercolor outside of the lines much, much more enjoyable.

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