The Guessing Game
Perhaps the most annoying and troublesome thing about a new relationship is the guessing game. Compound that with the emotional damage left from the experiences I’ve shared in previous blog entries and it goes without saying that I’m climbing the walls at the moment. I can’t even begin to figure out what to do. The guessing game is that period of time in a new relationship where you can’t really tell if they are “in to you” or not. It’s that time when you may walk on egg-shells to keep them from thinking that you are some kind of freak because of the traits about you that even you find to be a bit “out there.”
I think Julia Roberts’ character in Erin Brockovich said it best, “Are you going to be something else that I have to survive? Because I don’t think I can handle it.” That’s the point I am at right now. My relationship with Josh spiraled into this dark, shit-hole not a month before I had planned to propose to him. I didn’t mention that before. I had planned to propose to him on April 5th. According to a recent e-mail from his best friend/roommate, I decided upon that date because I wanted to manipulate him into marrying me, assuming that he wouldn’t say no on what is often considered one of the darkest days of my year. (My mother’s birthday is April 5th, she would have been 60 this year had she not died in 1995.) The reality of the matter is that I had planned to propose that day because I figured that it would mean that two of the best things that could have ever happened to me would have been realized on that day. In other words, it was because I thought he was that damn special that I decided that he should share that day with my mom. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.
Ryan moved in for the kill in a way that I’ve never experienced before. It was roughly one week after we met when he became the first person to ever make the suggestion that we be “boyfriends.” Usually I make that move. Likewise, it wasn’t but a few weeks later that he dropped the “L-bomb”, that being a word that I’ve only used with one other person, namely Josh. I could have used it twice before, but I never told Bryan that when we were together 6 years ago. I think that demonstrates how much that word scares me. I believe that the “L” word is a surrender of power to your partner. It offers them the ability to have your heart but it also gives them the power to absolutely destroy it. Which is what scares me the most about Ryan.
On one hand, I know he has a great heart and he definitely cares for me. I’ve got 32 saved text messages and several fond memories of things he has said to remind me of that. To top it all off, he made the initial move which means he must be interested, right? On the other hand, like tonight, he’s a bit silent. He may be asleep, I don’t know. This is where my paranoia thrives. He’s been out of town for the past week and a half, working with some environmental campaign by distributing “whatever” all over college campuses. I know he’s been busy as hell and, to hear him talk about his day, it’s hard work. I can’t seem to shake the idea that something else is going on. I have no basis for this thought, no evidence to back it up. Just this sinking feeling that even I will admit is a product of the paranoia which comes with having been hurt. Ryan is not the cheating type, I believe this whole heartedly in my head. It’s my heart that I’m having trouble convincing.
The paranoia has gotten so bad that I actually hunted down his Gay.com profile, or as Chris would call it “Click-a-trick”, just to see the details. I was immediately upset when I saw that he still listed himself as single, that is, until I noticed that his last update was in late February – before he met me – and his last login was early in March – right as things started heating up between he and I. I didn’t even ask him to stop going there, I didn’t even feel the need to ask. There’s nothing wrong with chatting on a site like that, especially if it is clear that you are taken. I choose not to go there anymore out of this intense respect for my partner, regardless of who I may be dating. It’s a gesture to them that I am pleased with what I have. I don’t expect that in return. The fact that he hasn’t logged in since he called me his boyfriend indicates to me that he may be serious… or just busy.
It’s this intense episode of Law and Order in my head. The prosecution is trying their damnedest to prove that the boy is a cheating, drug-addicted, alcoholic fuckwit. The defense is trying to discredit the prosecutions case and prove that the boy is a boy scout, one with a clean record, an impeccable character, and no evidence to the contrary. The problem with this, and any other case like it, is that the reality of life probably falls in the middle of those two things. That’s the scene in my head most nights, when my resolve to just “chill” gets weak. I worry that he is off sleeping with someone infinitely hotter than me, mainly due to the fact that my self-esteem is not exactly high. I worry that he doesn’t care anymore, that perhaps my baggage was enough for him to run away. Of course, I can’t prove any of this nor do I believe it with my head, just my heart. It’s hard to explain. What I can say is that I really just want to believe that Ryan is a good guy who won’t hurt me. My heart, however, cautions against the idea of surrendering my heart in direct defiance to my “better judgment.”
So I’m still guessing. Trying to figure out if my fears regarding him are the figment of my imagination or if, perhaps, my entire perception of this situation is just a product of my heart – clinging desperately to the concept that there may be love out there.
