Any minute now, BT will stumble upon this blog, into the private stories of the last sixteen months of my life. I shouldn't feel so much dread, but I do. I take pride in my writing, but I also know there's a good chance he might read the blog and decide he doesn't want to see me anymore. Maybe not because of what I wrote about other people, but what I wrote about him.
I stand by my words; I still think BT and I are both a bit lost and frustrated in our lives, and a relationship might put more strain on the existing situations. At the same time, I know that I haven't met a man with this much boyfriend potential in over a year. I know there's a chemistry, a something between us.
I also know that we need to go on some real dates to see what this something is. Dates that don't involve alcohol and nudity. Are we destined to have nothing more than a fling? I don't know. Could I handle a purely physical relationship? I thought I could, but I usually end up getting emotionally attached (damn oxytocin!) and I can see myself heading down that path with BT.
For the most part, I took a break from dating this year, and it has served me well. It's been great to be self-sufficient and put my attention into the non-romantic aspects of my life. However, I was saying to Polly this morning, say I accomplish the two goals I set out for myself this year, I get myself in proper shape and find a new job. Then what? A boyfriend will magically appear because I'm officially "ready"? It doesn't work that way.
It's safe not to get attached to anyone, and the last couple of weeks have shown me the ups and downs that can occur. I get nervous when I don't hear from him, I feel all smiley when I know I'm going to see him, and I've had periodic moments of anxiety in between when trying to figure out What it All Means.
I wish I could be the cool girl, the takes-things-as-they-come girl, instead of the confused girl.
All around me, I see failed relationships. My heart goes out to Polly, who I have been trying to comfort over her recent breakup. My parents did not set a good template of a happy and successful relationship for me (though I love them dearly and don't want to place any blame on them). Yes, I know of a few happy couples, but they seem more the exception than the rule. I have tried everything I can think of and have even tried not trying, but my love life often seems in a state of disarray. Pacing and patience are two of my problems, I know that much.
Being a romantic in New York City (or probably anywhere, for that matter) is murder. I don't believe in god, but I believe in true love, and keeping that faith can be unbelievably hard sometimes. I know I can do it again, open up and be vulnerable, make another person's happiness a priority, foster intimacy and friendship, listen, comfort, support, all of that relationship good stuff. I know reciprocity is key. I have the How down, it's just a matter of the When and the Who.
Maybe what I'm scared of is wanting all that stuff again, knowing that I have to give my heart to balance the scales. It's such a risk, such a leap of faith. How do people do it? How did I?