Meeting In The Aisle

We talked and I think everything is OK. But I I don't know if when she says she doesn't know if she's available to go out Friday is a true statement or a signal to a blow off. The OCD part of me just gets sad thinking that the next entry might be an it's over entry.

And then there's work. I was frank with the attorney I work with about me potentially giving notice. How does he try to convince me to stay? The legal version of "Marty, you're a worthless slut and only I can make you happy 'cuz no one else is going to put up with your shit."

Lately, I've been dreaming about being on vacation, about travelling to a beach.

I'm Losing You

She tells me. She tells me about how, a couple of years ago, someone did terrible things to her, horrible things - things that make me shake with anger, things that have taken away her ability to see herself for the funny, intelligent, sexy woman that she is. And she tells me how everytime she tries to communicate with me, she feels like she's doing something wrong. She tells me that she thinks all she does is make me feel sad. She tells me that she feels uncomfortable because she's beginning to discover the type of woman that I like, and she thinks she can't be her. She tells me I need to find someone who deserves me, someone normal, more put together.

And I try to make her realize that she hasn't done anything wrong, that everytime I've thought about her I smile, that she is the type of woman that I like. I write to her that what she told me doesn't change anything, that my gut reaction is to hold her and try to make her feel better.

She says she thinks I'm great, and that she really likes hanging out with me. I love how when we hold hands she bursts into a wide, child-like grin. If I lose her because she thinks I'm a jerk, or she hates my music tastes, I can accept that. But if I lose her because she thinks I need someone better, because she thinks she's somehow unworthy, I still have to accept her decision, but it will be . . . well . . . I've been worthless at work these last few days. I've been breaking down at random times.

After e-mails and confusion, I realized what I had to do. I told her again that I still want to see her because she really is great, but that I'll let her have some space to think. I told her that whatever she decides, I hope that we could still remain friends, and that she could talk to me anytime. I told her I only want to be something supportive in her life.

So now I just wait.

Fighting For My Love

One of the worst things about being in the beginning of the relationship is sounding melodramatic, I mean Degrassi High melodramatic. Melodrama does not good writing make. (So when in the entire history of this blog has good writing ever mattered to you? - OK, shut up from the peanut gallery).

So everything has kinda stabilized, though I think we have taken a couple of steps back and a breather or two -- we might have pushed it a bit too fast too early.

Anyway, I'm back to this do I write about her / do I not write about her dilemna. She's told me she has / wanted to write a blog, and truthfully, I felt a little weirded out about the thought of her writing about me with her own pseudonym for me. Yet here I am writing about her. Bit hypocritical, aren't I?

Gotta think about this some more.

. . . But Events Conspired

I received the "I'm confused" e-mail, so I send her the "I'm there for you" response. Now, I wait and hope she doesn't give me the "It's not you, it's me" or "I just have a lot of issues in my life" call. So, . . .

so fuck being rational. I hate this waiting, this uncertainty. I hate going from 100 to 0 in less than two weeks. I'm putting up this, "Hey, it's not a big deal, we only went on four dates" front with everyone. But what I hate the most is that I really like her, and I can do absolutely nothing to make her feel better right now. Nothing except for giving her space, and hope she decides that she likes me back and wants to keep me in her life.