Disregard Previous

I should know better than to post while stressed. Last week was a grueling work week and the agitation and frustration seeped into every party of my life but focused (increasingly) on Mac. And do you know what? The moment he walked through the door Saturday it all melted away.

It's true, I need to keep all these things (mentioned in the previous post) in mind, but I also need to rein in my tendencies to obsess and overthink and tiptoe to the dark side. There are things to work through, sure, but that doesn't mean we're done for. I do love him. Muchly.

Must employ the weapons in my power (communication, patience, de-stressing) and proceed. This is real, and reality has it's hiccups.

We just celebrated 8 months. At 9 months, it'll be a record for me. (Yes, if the fact that I've ended all my relationships till now well before the 9-month mark doesn't tell you something ... )

I Got 'Wifed'

You're familiar with the dreaded 'we,' aren't you? You're talking to a handsome man at a bar, say, and things are friendly and good until he says something like, "Well, when we bought our house ..." And you have to sit there and try to act completely unsurprised knowing that you'd just been We'd.

Ugh. "We." It's a nice word when you're part of the we, but when you're single and scouting for a partner, it can be disheartening to hear. (Though, of course, kudos for letting us know, guys, that you are indeed taken!)

Well, I got wifed yesterday.

I think I've mentioned my work crush here and the uncertainty about his status. Rumor had it that he was going through a divorce--the attraction between the two of us almost glowed visibly. (Granted, we never talked about it--and never talked about anything at all, actually. So B-grade movie!) And then, poof!, the mutuality of it vanished. I figured he and his wife gotten back together.

Sure enough: he and I had to work on a project yesterday and at the first opportunity, he brought up his wife. "My wife," he said--not even her name, which I know. And it was so convoluted and unnecessary that I have to wonder ... was he wanting to quell the office rumors (I've heard very few) or was this an explanation for the warmth that had vanished?

Today we worked a little more on the project and actually talked quite a bit--about life things and about his wife. (In general, referential terms--not private stuff.) It's sweet, actually.

More and more it seems impossible that I will meet my sort of person. And, you know, if I don't, that's OK.

DDoubt

(Yes, with double DDs)

I had a significant freakout last week.

A freakout to the extent that I clammed up, shut down, Did Not Communicate. So juvenile!

And Guy #1 behaved like an adult despite my behavior. He backed off and let me have my space and demonstrated heaps of dignity doing it. Wow.

I know, I'm leaving out the juicy details. Let's just say that we went to a wedding together and though I can't be certain, I think that was the cause of my panic. (Hi. Am I a commitmentphobe?) The wedding followed a romantic stay at a nearby hotel--right at our two-month anniversary. (And Guy is the sensitive, sweet, in-love type who marks anniversaries--so sweet!) I think it was just too much.

Much to my relief, five days apart set me to rights again. All last week I was sure we were headed for a breakup. I was sure I couldn't do this, that he wasn't the guy for me. And then Friday I wanted him.

Fickle and disgusting, sure, but I am relieved. I thought I'd have to look for a new therapist and start confessing my sins against men on a comfy couch again. (Not that that would be the worst thing in the world.)

Guy is just lovely. Where did those sharp, intense doubts come from? And will they come again? I sure hope not.

A Swift Kick in the Pants

I don't know if you read Evan Marc Katz's latest post, but if you haven't, do and then trot back over here. I'll wait.

...

This is exactly the reality check I've needed regarding TOTGA. And it's not that I didn't know these things, it's just that it's so easy to forget them. It helps to have someone grab you by the ears and say, "Listen, Ruby. It wasn't real. It didn't last. And you ended it."

Yes, that's right. I sat TOTGA down and gently said that at five months, the once-a-week phone calls and rare emails just weren't working for me. I said that I cared about him and wished this weren't so, but that I was not going to be the girl waiting by the phone. (Unfortunately I didn't say all of these brave things dry-eyed. I still wish wholeheartedly that I had held it together a little better. Ah well, at least my message was strong, even if the delivery was weak.)

Why, then, have I been pining over this joker? I don't know, but I have decided that the buck stops here. Finally. Evan's post helps a lot--and so does my discovery that TOTGA is apparently still with a woman who (IMHO) is a little whack. Some men are drawn to The Crazy, and while I have charming, semi-obsessive tendencies (hello hangup on TOTGA), I am not crazy. I don't have time for men who have to generate excitement in their lives by latching on to unstable women--I don't care how tall, dark and handsome they are. (How smart, how calm, cool and collected; how much of their shit they have together ...)

Of course, there is a part of me that hopes (so devilishly) that his situation will implode soon. But a bigger, better part of me hopes he's happy--even with The Crazy.