Knowing Butterfly
Today's astrological prediction:
The current triple conjunction of Mercury, Venus and the Sun is building your strength by testing your strength. You seem to be getting ever closer to the end of your tether. What will happen when you finally reach it? Your current drama is a test of your tether. It is designed to stretch it to the point where it breaks and you are thus no longer tethered to something that you absolutely have to free yourself from. A few more days should do it!
There's nothing left to say. Can we even nip it in the bud now? It's just too hard. Maybe I'm just not ready for this. Or am I just lying to myself? You tell me that you leaving me is not my decision to make. Even so I constantly feel like I'm bad for you. I can't accommodate you. It's just not possible. It's so tempting to just be a bitch about it all and just burn you. You have no idea how tempting it is. To have the courage to do what's right. It doesn't matter that you think it's worth hanging around. The deeper I get into this the worse I feel letting you down. Sometimes I do wonder if it's all worth it or not. Sometimes I just don't feel like riding it out. You're right, when faced with conflict I either clam up or push you away. It's not just whether or not you can hack it. It's also whether or not I can. What's compromise if someone's still suffering? I don't want to be the bad person and I constantly feel like I am. Whether it's intentional or not.
My sense of honour won't let me do otherwise. Do you honestly feel it's worth it? All this pain? There really is nothing left to really say. You just have to accept my decision, and I have to stick to my guns coz sometimes I wonder if in fact I am too nice a person and is constantly taken advantaged of? So what if I get my way? I don't even feel right doing what it is I do. In some ways it's like we're at an impasse. Like I once said, nothing is going to change. And I just know that I will disappoint you more than I will make you happy. You ask me whether I truly believe that or not, and sometimes I really do. I guess maybe I'm just trying to make myself look good at the end of the day, ensure that I have the right moral ground and can never be accused of doing the wrong thing. Protecting myself from the inevitable? After you there will be no one else. I've said those fateful words before, I know. But hopefully I'll truly know better this time.
Personally I feel like we met each other at the wrong time in our lives. Our priorities are different this time around. And for that I'm truly sorry. But to be honest I can't change anything and I most likely won't. I refuse. I wonder if unconsciously I will start to push you away? It's highly possible. I always run away from my problems. And most likely you will never take me back if I do leave. It's just not right for me right now, I know I need to sort many things out in my life. I'm just starting out on this road. I don't really know what I want out of it. And the deeper we get the more I feel the gulf. And I see no way to bridge it without compromising my principles. Well maybe not so much 'principles'. But like, essentially without going against family. I've already done that once. And I won't do that again. There's nowhere left to turn but forward. I love you but perhaps it's not good that I do.
Maybe it's best that I simply stop this. Before it gets any worse. No matter that you tell me that I make you happy, more happy than you have ever been in your life, that doesn't placate me when fundamental differences like today happen. And I don't really know what to do or say when 'I'm Sorry' doesn't hack it for you.
Actions speak louder than words, yes. But that's all I have these days. Yes your requests aren't unreasonable. So that makes me the bad guy.
There's nothing left to say. The only way is forward. Perhaps I'm trying to orchestrate my own tragedy. If so, all the potential conflicts are there. It's only a matter of time. Two months was all it took to see that this was doomed. Why waste time over this? But I don't want to deal with the aftermath either. Selfish little thing, aren't I?
I just sms'd you my feelings about constantly feeling bad about myself. You're obviously upset because you read my previous point about just 'leaving it' as me trying to break up with you via sms.
It's funny how this afternoon I couldn't bear to be apart from you. How I went with you to the pub to meet your friend only because the thought of leaving work without you disturbed me. I love your attention. I must be honest. I love that you constantly want me in your life. But I'm also scared that if I give you my all, my total all, that you will burn me. And it's funny how despite all that has happened between us in the last two months, I still sometimes don't feel 100% comfortable with you. Maybe what that's saying is that you're not the one for me.
But I shy away from conflict so readily that I'm concerned I will stay for the wrong reasons. Every time you shout me down I freak out. Perhaps I've put you on a pedestal that I knew I had no reason to put you on. That I knew all along you didn't deserve to be on, and it was something that you'd already told me about: "I'm not perfect by any means". Yes I know that, but maybe for the age difference alone I automatically assume that what you say is right. When in fact it can be wrong. And so it is that I find myself turning to my mother for guidance. Passively of course. God forbid she knew about everything that went on in my life.
I also am scared at the prospect of having to deal with your unhappiness and anger at me from across the pod at work. I work with you for crying out loud. I don't want to ruin anything of your life either. All I know is that this is a tough situation to be in. And while I kinda want out, at the same time I don't. And that's all I really know.
Treacherous Butterfly
Am I faithful, am I strong
Am I good enough to belong
In your reverie
a perfect girlYour vision of romance is cruel
And all along I played the fool
All your expectations bury me
Don't worry
You will find the answer if you let it go
Give yourself some time to falter
But don't forgo this
Knowing that you're loved no matter what
And everything will come around
In time
I own my insecurities
I try to own my destiny
That I can make or break it if I choose
But you take my words and twist them 'round
'til I'm the one that brings you down
Make me feel like I'm the one to blame
For all this
You need everybody with you on your side
Know that I am here for you
But I hope in time
You'll find yourself alright alone
You'll find yourself with open arms
You'll find yourself,
you'll find yourself
In time
The riot in my heart decides
To keep me open and alive
I have to take myself away from you
'Cause I can't compete
I can't deny
There's nothing that I didn't try
How did I go so wrong in loving you
Don't worry
You will find the answer if you let it go
Give yourself some time to falter But don't forgo this
Knowing that you're loved no matter what
And
everything will come around In time Sarah McLachlan ~ Perfect GirlHome is where you can hide yourself from the slings and arrows of your foes. A protective circle from the outside world. Yet when faced with an opportunity to move homes you jump at the chance and effectively break the fragile illusion of home with your fellow family members. And suddenly you are faced with a tragedy in motion. You stand at the edge, fearful of making that leap, realising that perhaps you are not as prepared as you had hoped, imagined or believed, and suddenly you make the retraction. You slink back apologising, wanting what once was.
Except that upon your return you realise that nothing can be as it 'once was.'
Why? Because you broke the illusion of calm. You broke their trust. And while supposedly your actions are forgiven, at the end of the day they can't be really forgotten. And then you have to bear the burden of knowing that you ruined what once was a perfect little circle.
At the same time you are also faced with the knowledge that you cannot constantly live out two seperate lives. One where you yearn at the bit for freedom, while at the same time desiring to be the 'perfect girl' at home. You can't be both daughter/child and woman at the same time.
He became a catalyst for all of this, and nothing can change that. Yet, what's done is done, and now it's a matter of sorting things through.
I do want to move out, yet at the same time I know I cannot.
And now, everytime mum rages I find myself wishing to be anywhere but here. I don't want 'here' anymore. Thanks to yours truly, home is no idyll. There is no warm and protective circle to enter to brave the fierce winds and angry cries against me. This is all I have - the sanctum of four walls. My room.
Even now when I am at home, every time she rages I feel the distance cut through me. I don't want to be here. This is no longer home. While her attitude towards me has changed from the earlier cold distant demeanour to the previous warm caring mother, there still underlies all her actions and speech a strain of bitterness. "I have no filial daughter. I used to have one, but now I have one no longer."
Everything rests on my brother's shoulders, and I am effectively a judas, betrayer of the family trust, betrayer of the family's love.
At the same time, the relationship that I ran into has no guarantees either. While I am told that I am effectively his, "One" I can't help but be a little sceptical and wary. All relationships can be as strong or start as wonderful. But that doesn't stop the divorces and the break ups from happening. I don't dare put all my trust into this relationship despite my contrary actions.
There are just moments these days when I dislike what it is I am and where it is I am. And I can feel the treacherous little thoughts creeping in. What does it say when I view work as a place of refuge? When I wish for work so that I don't have to be at home? And now that his car is out of commission, my nightly escapades of dinner and a movie, or after work drinks is again taken away from me. And I find that I have to trudge home. Grudgingly.
Home is no longer a place that I can truly call home. It is mine no longer. Yet I am terrified of leaving it altogether. The misery that I've put my family through - I can't put them through it again. That would be stupidity. I can't break her heart again. I've already done it once.
All I can hope for is to apply for a job that will take me interstate and that will allow me to become what it is I want. Perhaps distance will heal these wounds. All I find right now is suffering. She puts on her brave face, grins and bears it. I, on the other hand find it a little more difficult. I have never enjoyed conflict and tend to run away at the earliest chance.
What will happen should this relationship die (be it through my fault or his) and I find myself alone in another place, empty and alone? How will I bear it?
I have effectively one handedly ruined any chance of viewing family as a warm place to be in. Right now all my emotions are intellectual rather than emotional. I cannot do things at home because I want to. I do them because I know that they are right. That in order to salvage whatever is left, I have to do this. And that is not the right way to go about it. Yet there is no other way out.
I hate the fact that I can't wait for the Easter weekend to be over so that I can return to work and spend a few hours forgetting about my home troubles. I hate that I dread going home every afternoon because I have to 'deal' with my mother.
I hate that I rush through dinner in order to run into my room and be myself.
How did a close-knit family turn into such pain?
How could I ruin this so easily? With one argument, a few careless thoughtless words and the world that I once knew no longer exists.
Inconsequential Butterfly
The autumn chill always makes me nostalgic. Am listening to Third Eye Blind today.
"If you ever find a way to forgive me
And if you ever find a way to put this all to rest
Because I'm hanging on your dress now like a little boy
And all that you wanted
And all that you wanted
Was a good man
Alright
Right in the middle of another big fight
Pull back another one tonight
I'll never forget, but who protects the memories
When we bleed each other from the vein
And if you ever find a way to make this interesting
If I ever find a way to stop disintegrating
Into pieces that I was that you destroy
And all that you wanted
And all that you wanted
Was a good man
Alright
Right in the middle of another big fight
Go to bed, it's getting light out
Why do you, why do you, why do you
Always stop me on places when I'm coming down
How do you do it when I'm overwhelmed by a violet sky?
We fly in a decaying orbit, 66,000 miles an hour goes by
When we kissed and only now do I feel your mouth
Like an ache you never knew
And it was right in front of you
Oh how do you do it?
Roots in the soil untangle
Releasing your sweet summer warmth,
But still I recoil like mace
And all the little moments
I pushed you away that I can't erase
Every moment overflows with power,
66,000 miles an hour
And if you ever find a way to forgive me
And if you ever find a way to put this all to rest
Cos I'm hanging on your dress now like a little boy
And all that you wanted
And all that you wanted
Was a good man
Alright
And all that you wanted
And all that you wanted
Was a good man
Was a good man, good man
Was a good man, good man
Was a good man, (was a good man) good man
Was a good man, (was a good man) good man"
Third Eye Blind ~ Good Man
I probably shouldn't be thinking about him at all. It's all said and done.
Over.
Yet I hear this song and pieces of it jump out and catch hold of me. Nothing would change. I can't respond to that email. There is no point.
Reminiscing Butterfly
If I was given the chance - would I go back and change anything? I have been reading and rereading his email for the last week or so. And each time I come away feeling different emotions.
I'm on red wine and a full stomach listening to an acoustic version of Possession by Sarah McLachlan. My mood's been nostalgic and wistful for most of the day.
I went to see Sarah on Monday night and I've come away all surreal-like, floating in a little bubble. There are moments when I wonder if I didn't appreciate the concert enough. There are other moments when listening to her cds I have to pinch myself to remind myself that I saw her in person. Live. In Concert. And she blew me away. I panicked halfway through the first set thinking, 'this can't be it. There has to be more!'
Interestingly though, listening to some of her songs live reminded me of Him. And the thoughts float around, and I can half emphathise with his feelings of nostalgia, regret and despair.
And so it comes around that here I sit rereading his email for the thousandth time wondering. If I wasn't in a relationship would that email mean anything? Would his email prompt me to unblock him from msn and retry the friendship? Or did it just get too hard?
I don't know.
Nothing changes. And as I pointed out to him last week - there's nothing left to say.
See, in my head the relationship was over. He'd told me point blank that he didn't feel like he loved me enough to fight for me. And no matter his honest reasons - that he was scared of messing us up, scared of feeling/being happy - at the end it was obvious to me that this was it. There was no more.
So when he emails me and says, "I just wanted you to know that I get it," well, thanks for letting me know, but honestly, what do you want me to do about it?
Sometimes I wonder if I should in fact try again - if only to be friends. But at the same time, I do honestly wonder if in fact it's worth it. To let him back into my life. Regardless of how things are currently, no matter how happy, content or whatever things are right now in my personal life, I can't help but wonder whether I really need this can of worms reopened.
Essentially that last phone call with him cemented in my head that nothing would come of anything. It's not really that I'm honestly angry with him or whatever. It's not even that he's still hurting me. It's just that, I like the facade, the idea that he did wrong and that I am in the right. After all the revelling in the misery and the hurt, well, it's about time he got a taste of his own medicine. And if he's suffering as much as it seems like in that email, well, I'm ok with that.
I've been thinking lately, what would happen if I saw him in the street? Would I go up and say hello? Can I do that yet? Or will pride still insist on me walking by? I know that most likely if he saw me in the street he wouldn't stop to say hello because he thinks that I don't want to have anything to do with him.
If you ask me what I really want, all I want is for him to know that there will never be an 'us'. That he screwed up forevermore, and that no matter what, we can't ever be more than acquaintences - if even that. But I want it sunken into him in a way that only a meeting in person can do.
Naturally this scenario would only work in serendipitious situations. Maybe I'm just trying to write out my own play. Incorporating the cliched 'two ships pass quietly in the night'.
Or maybe I've just been drinking too much red wine.
Vindicated Butterfly
A cardboard inner-city
Has found its way to me
It's out, and it's out, and it's out
Making me cry
I think that I will not move
I'm too scared to leave my room
But I won't be defeated, oh no
What if cards don't go my way?
Then it's sure to spoil my day
But in voices loud and clear
You say to me it's only superstition
It's only your imagination
It's only your other things that you feel
And the things from which you can't escape
Keep clean for the thousandth time
Stand still and wait in line
So nobody's better than others, oh no
What if cards don't go my way?
Then it's sure to spoil my day
But in voices loud and clear
You say to me it's only superstition
It's only your imagination
It's only your other things that you feel
And the things from which you can't explain
And it's making me cry
And it's making me cry
And I'm slipping away, love I'm slipping away
It's only superstition
Only your imagination
It's only superstition
Only superstition
Only Superstition ~ Coldplay
Only Superstition. Always hoping for things to turn out right and always desperately doing whatever we can within our little realms of control in order to try and manipulate the universe to align and make our lives turn out the 'right' way. The way we'd like and want them to be.
I received an email today from the ex who has given me so much grief in the last six months. The ex who was responsible for making me start this blog in the first place. The ex who put the 'angst' in 'love and angst.'
I won't publish the email out here, at the most I'll take out the little excerpts that mean or resonate the most with me.
By writing and sending that email, he has essentially provided closure for me. Something that I kinda already had. But to be honest, I'm a little thrown by it all.
The most important thing, when it comes down to it all right now, is that I have to remind myself that currently I do in fact have a boyfriend. One who adores me. Who today in an email told me specifically that I was the four points of his compass. He loves me. It's genuine. It is without a doubt. And while I hesitate and umm and ahh it all, deep down there has to be something there, because I've already told him that I love him. Countless times in fact. So the thing that I need to remind myself when reading this email from my ex is that I love my boyfriend. That I choose my boyfriend over my ex.
Perhaps what is most reassuring in that email of his is the last line: "I just hope that this letter actually gives you a bit more insight, and lets you know that finally, if only too late, that I get it."
After six months of pounding my head against your thick brick wall of a skull, yes, you finally get it.
I had a sms war with you yesterday. Least I think it was yesterday. It might have been Tuesday. Anyhow, you had sms'd me demanding to know whether or not we would be speaking to each other at graduation. And I had replied 'no.' You had stupidly replied back with, 'thanks, just needed to know' to which I said, 'there's nothing left to say' and you came back with, 'if that is your decision then I respect that 100%.' I was so incensed over your patronising tone that I immediately dared myself to send back the reply, 'you have no choice.'
And today, with your 5k email, the longest I have ever received from you, I continue to feel that small sense of accomplishment. That I, have effectively, won. I won the war. I may have lost the battle, but sure as hell I won the war.
Sure, there's that treacherous twiggling inside that says to me, 'you can still be nice, you can still try. This thing might still be salvageable.' But seriously, are you mad? Are you insane? You have a boyfriend now. One who is so set on you that he has told you upfront that come one day he may well ask you to marry him.
Don't throw this away because of one piddling email.
Seriously, what's the point of pursuing this? There is no point. Yes, the email provided me with insight, yes the email made me feel a lot better, it vindicated all my actions and made me feel that this was in fact the right thing for me to do. Perhaps all I'm really blogging about is that twiggling feeling inside. That treacherous little worm that says, 'let's go back and salvage things.' All the while forgetting that I'm in a relationship.
My ex writes and tells me that I have the last laugh. I most likely do. And come August, I may well be sitting on a plane flying to Japan to attend an international conference, boyfriend in tow. Life has *gotta* look up from here.
And mayhap I should actually hope that come graduation my ex will not be there. Because him seeing me happy will only spoil things. Bad person that I am, I am so revelling in your misery. Those last few words are still resounding in my head: "finally, if only too late, I get it. I get it."
What makes it interesting though, is that even though you tell me that you 'get it' sometimes I don't think that you've really fathomed out how much I in fact cared for you. Despite my anger and vindictiveness at you, all I ever wanted was for you to love me. That's all. No more. And it probably still does kill me, and still may well kill me one day to know that you will have found someone to replace me.
When you tell me that you just want to mend things so that I don't run you down one day if I see you in the street - honestly? I don't hate you that much that I would do that. I say this now with a clearer mind and more mended heart than six months ago, but I'd like to think that never once would I have done that - mowed you down. I probably would have waved at you and smiled. You truly was someone that I wanted to spend time with.
To be honest, you are the only one I have ever voluntarily said 'I love you' to. You are the only one who has ever made me want to give and give and give, and never held back upon. You are the only one who I have willingly wanted to take upon my shoulders all your burdens in life. I wanted it all and more. I wanted to save you. I wanted it all. Even now with my current one, I hesitate to ask, I hestitate to offer too much in case I bite off more than I can chew. And I never respected the one before you enough. But you, you I respected. You I believed, you I wanted and desired more than anything. Maybe because deep down I knew that I couldn't have you, so I went ahead and let myself go, because I always felt that I would be safe, protected behind a wall of knowledge that we would never work out. Not properly.
As much as I would like to respond, when I look deep inside myself, all I find is emptiness. Hollowness. Whiteness and greyness. Bland. Within your first few lines you have already said that you didn't want me to reply, because all we'll go around in circles and attack each other. Yeh, whatever. Even in your apologetic modes, you're still an arrogant jerk with an inborn ability to patronise.
You're messed up. So messed up. I hope you don't turn up to graduation and I hope you will spend years getting over me, hoping that I'm happy but not brave enough to ever meet me and find out for sure. You're a loser in the worst sense of the word. I want you to sink into that abyss weighed down by guilt and misery. Yes you deserved to be punished, and I hope that you and I will never meet again, because to be honest? I am so much better than you. And I want you to regret this forever. I want you to always sit and wonder. I don't want to alleviate your guilt, sorrow or remorse in any way.
You have fallen buddy. And I'm gonna make sure that no one will ever want to pick you up.
Opening Butterfly
"I know I've said it before, but I want to say it again: I hope I make you feel half as happy as you make me feel."
"I love being with you. I feel so comfortable with you."
"You bring me so much pleasure."
Across the table eating mudcrab:
"One more thing: I love you."
Fifteen minutes later:
"One more thing: that thing I said to earlier."
"I want to do everything for you. And that includes you doing whatever you want to do." (i.e. he will support me in everything that I want to do)
"You make me so happy."
"You are the best thing that's happened to me."
"You are the best thing in my life. Not that I'm putting pressure on you or anything."
You were very open tonight. Ready to spill things out and talk about them. I wish I had taken full advantage of it, and asked certain questions or fished for certain answers from you. It's rare, I find, that you ever open up to me - I mean, properly open up to me. So much of you is a mystery to me. Your past is a closed book.
What makes it even more interesting is that when I ask you hard questions you can manage me. You throw me a bone, a one-off line to shut me up, to placate me. And I always take them seriously. The one time I called you on it, that line about me warning you that I was complex, and your response that I could be the complex one, and you would be the normal one, you scoffed at me and said, 'did you seriously think that I meant it?' i.e. you were half joking when you said it. Yes honestly, I believed.
I think perhaps what remains is time. I need time to sort you/us out properly. And now that I've essentially said that I wanted to spend some more time with family, well, this perhaps is an ideal time to give myself and us some space to get some perspective back in order.
Maybe that in itself will tell me enough about where I want to be, and how I want it to happen. Maybe.
Pausing Butterfly
I have been staring at your photo all day. I managed to get a snap of you yesterday, and as I was pawing through old photos of myself, I came across some of you from two years ago. Without the goatee.
I had forgotten what you looked like before the facial hair became a staple on you. And I guess I still stick with my original comment that I prefer you the way you are now. Because you, as you stand currently, is the man I've fallen in love with. You, as you are now, is the man that is taking care of me, that is loving me, that has made his declarations known to me.
While I acknowledge that your past is what makes you 'you', I must also state that looking back on those old photos of you, sometimes it seems like I'm looking at photos of a stranger.
I miss you.
Unsettled Butterfly
Sometimes I wonder if I really know what I'm doing.
What on earth am I doing with you?
"I love you more and more each day."
"You are everything I want and more."
"You. Are perfection."
"I love you so much."
"I am the luckiest man alive."
"You make me believe that there is a God."
"You are the best thing that's happened to me."
"You make me feel the most happiest I have ever felt in my life."
Yes, but you're 34, and I'm 22. There are so many better looking, potentially better prospective men out there. Why am I settling on you?
We fit together so well. But I can't help but wonder sometimes if I've settled for the wrong guy. Yes you love me, and yes, I guess you could argue that I love you also. The physical intimacy, the physical affection is all there. We fit so well with each other.
Yet, at the same time, I wonder what it is that truly holds us together.
"I am an imperfect man."
"I'm far from perfect either."
"Yes, but you're a lot closer to perfection than I am."
You act so silly and childish.
You are so thoughtful and kind. I teach you how to count to ten in myy language and three weeks later you can remember from 1 to 9. You remember how to say my name. You actively go and find out how to say "I love you" in my language. You slip it in when I least expect it. You whisper sweet nothings in my ear and you can drive me absolutely wild. You make me laugh.
You love me for me. For all that I am.
What am I going to do with you? Do I honestly want to settle down with you? Are you in fact, truly, and i mean, honestly, deep down raw honestly, what I want?
No, you're not.
Then what am I doing wasting each other's time?
You treat me well.
Perhaps given time we will know for certain whether we are in fact meant to be. You are terrified that I will leave you. That I will wake up one day and discover that you are not what I want, and I will fall for someone far more richer, better looking, and younger than you.
I am afraid that I will wake up one day and break your heart. That I will look beyond the love and devotion that you can give me, in order to pursue a greener horizon, only to be disappointed. And then, upon losing my green horizon, return to find my fields not fallow or fertile, but languishing in neglect, beyond repair.
Confusion reigns. Twisted logic. Unforeseen circumstances.
Yet I still feel that emotion that comes from within. The one that prompts me to say to you, "I love you". Perhaps all it really is, is that I'm moved by you.
Your hugs are so sweet and comforting. Your kisses perfect. You make me shiver and shudder and muster up armies of butterflies in my stomach. Your touch sends me into paroxyms of desire.
What happens though when we no longer have work in common? When suddenly we will not see each other daily? Our fragile lifestyle is already becoming threatened. Our actions questioned.
I love you more than I can say, and the emotion billows out in sickening streams like an overflowing sink of water. Dribbles of emotion pouring out. Yet so often I hesitate, wondering if I am right in doing this? If I am right to 'throw my life away' on you?
"Take care of him" your brother tells me.
"I love this girl, she laughs at all my jokes" he says.
"What are you doing with him? You have poor taste in men" says your father and my mother.
"He's too old for you" a part of your mind says.
"I'm too young for him" the other half says.
Loving Butterfly
So I said it yesterday. The three most coveted words in the relationship lexicon: I Love You.
And after having said it to him for the first time, suddenly I have an urge to say it every other time he looks at me.
My friend once told me: never say something like that unless you mean it.
Her advice to me after meeting him was, "he seems like a nice guy. If he's what you really want, then go ahead. But if you're not sure, stop. Keep an eye out, and be smart about all of this."
How do you define love? How do I know what I feel means that my "I love you" was genuine? It took three attempts to get it out in the open. The first time, I only got as far as his name. And when he looked at me, I sort've half chickened out. He knew though. He looked at me, kissed me, and said, "me too". Have I been that transparent? Or is there a look on my face that betrays my true feelings? Have I done things to imply that I am in love with you? Or perhaps the songs that we have been trading have had a sinister undertone to my intentions. I can't help it if the song is pretty. It's just coincidence that they sing about love.
The second time around, he asked me, "do you love me?" My automatic response was 'yes'. So maybe he figured I was shy about asking and he was trying to help me out. Make it easier to say something that obviously I wanted to say, and he wanted/needed to hear. Or maybe it was just his insecurities coming out to play.
And the third time, well, the words just came out. And it was barely a whisper. Yet somehow he heard them. Those three little words, he heard them. They were barely a whisper. The minute after I said it, I had the instant thought, maybe I can take them back. Maybe he won't hear it and I'll be 'safe' for a little while longer before he breaks down all my walls. Well, too late for that now.
Overriding impulses. The sudden desire to say things. Just like when you see an adorable puppy and instantly want to cuddle it into your arms and devour it.
The only concern I have right now is that I have no more cards to play. And that if I don't stop this, this may well go down the road to 'more.' And I had too many plans to stop here. But right now, this relationship, despite family issues, seems so perfect, seems so right. Who am I to stop someone from treating me right? Who am I to not appreciate when someone loves me? Who am I to say no to someone or punish them for simply falling in love with me?
Even my friend pointed out that he was obviously very interested in me. So it seems, I'm the dark horse.
I freaked out last night after drinking a glass of champagne. Two hours in, after snuffling down hors d'oeuvres, I was suddenly overwhelmed. I broke out into a sweat, my stomach began to play games, and I started to feel dizzy. Upon rushing to the bathroom, I expected to heave out the entire contents of my stomach, only to find very little. While we have agreed to place the blame on the champagne, I can't help but wonder otherwise. Not that it's likely. But afterwards, I sat there in that bathroom, in a stranger's house, with my only link to familiarity being him, I did a little contemplating. What on earth was I doing? Why on earth was I there? Was this what I really pictured when I said yes to this guy? Is this where I want my life heading? What does it mean when you find yourself trying to throw up in someone's toilet when you don't even know who they are? Perhaps this is exactly the type of situation your mother was trying to stop you from experiencing when she put her foot down and laid down the law. Maybe she was right after all, and you were just inexperienced, impetuous and young.
I must say that the feelings that washed through me as I sat in that bathroom have disturbed me a little. And after sleeping on the after effects of champagne, and reliving all that happened yesterday, I wonder if it was in fact a good thing that I said those three coveted little words out loud to someone who matters. I still want out. While it is reassuring to know that he's serious and in it for the long-haul, I can't exactly be selfish and say that I don't want anything more and expect him to wait 5 years for me. I've got all the time in the world, but not so much for him. Will this just be a passing romance? Something that can be written down in the books as, 'a beautiful romance with a sad ending'?
Surreal Butterfly
Surreal moments in life:
Turning up to the symphony to see well-known politicians and a celebrity at the intermission reception.
Listening to the opening welcome speeches, and watching the celebrity, thinking, 'wow, that guy's a famous actor! And he's standing like, 5 metres away from me!'
Suddenly noticing that said famous actor is actually looking at me.
Oh dear.
Attempt to play cool, and let eyes wander around room. After all, yes he's famous, but he's just a person. Try your best attempt to be nonchalant. But as you do with famous people, your eyes eventually gravitate back to said famous person.
Notice that said famous person is *still* looking at you.
Get a little freaked/shy and wonder if perhaps you're standing too obviously in a place you shouldn't be.
Get a little self-concious and try to edge back a little towards your boyfriend, who you hope has noticed that you're pretty much out on your own at this big-whirl social function. This continues for five minutes before you finally manage to subtly edge into your boyfriend's personal space and he slides his arm around your waist.
Although you have to admit feeling a little disappointed that maybe the celebrity notices that you are in fact taken.
Following the closing of speeches and the return of general social humdrum mixing, your boyfriend comments that he noticed said celebrity giving you the "ten yard stare". So you acknowledge that said celebrity was in fact 'checking you out' and perhaps you did (or maybe didn't) do the right thing in not smiling or acknowledging his presence rather than simply attempting to back away slowly.
Not that said celebrity was in any means your type. Or that said celebrity was even in the *vicinity* of your age group. Or that anything could come out of said celebrity and yourself.
Just a twinge that perhaps you could've done more than simply react by being immediately self-conscious. So titilated that a celebrity could in fact have checked you out in the first place. Although that being said, most likely you were the youngest at the entire function and looked out of place among all the retiring grey-haired balding politicians and the frumpy women in sequined dresses with pancake make-up and big hair.
Of course, with boyfriend in tow, you note the twinges are really just the vanity talking.
