Let me say how much I enjoy reading all of your comments from both of yesterday's posts (Tweedlecrazy and Tweedlecrazier). Pretty much all of them resonate with some part of me, all the way from "He's a liar!" to "See, you shouldn't have sent that crazy email!" to "Maybe you should discuss this with him." I think you are all the innumerable voices that live in my head and torment/comfort me.
Here's the real deal. After Wednesday/Thursday cuddlefest/sleepover with Dr. Nutrition, I felt pretty overwhelmed with the lovie dovies and fell into my usual pattern of clinging. When I'm feeling a beautiful boy I tend to want to minimize space and time apart, and just spend countless days laying around in one another's arms. See how this is a little problematic on about a billion levels? Especially for people who want to have, you know, lives? I am a sucker for romance (or maybe it's just lust) and just can't seem to contain myself. I had the same issue with SCL where I set up a pattern of being the one to initiate our time together, and then I got resentful when he wouldn't take the initiative. Nice little trap I set up for myself there.
In truth I didn't give Dr. Nutrition much of a chance to initiate communication because I was too busy doing it. So, really how frustrated could I get that he hadn't texted or called when I wasn't giving him the space to? So, on Sunday I decided to just lay off. And when he didn't call on Sunday or by Monday evening, I got a little more antsy and called him--and proceeded to get royally pissed when I didn't hear back on what I felt was a reasonable timeline. At that point I had already constructed a narrative in my head of exactly what happened, all of which was about my own insecurities and imperfections. This, my boss informed me today after I spilled my guts, is a form of narcissism.
Shut the front door! I'm a narcissist? A girl who writes a blog all about herself is a narcissist? I guess in my mind a narcissist is an arrogant, proud person but in a broader sense, she's right. When something goes wrong, I assume it's all about me. And this was no exception.
The tipping point for me really was the unreturned phone call because I had been so direct--I haven't heard from you, what's going on. So I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a deliberate blow-off (it fit into my constructed narrative of him not liking me quite nicely) and then lashed out via email. So, when he did return my call (a response to my phone call, not my crazy-ass email), I felt like a total schmuck, not because I was pissed about him not returning my call earlier (justified) but that I had assumed that he would not return it period because he was an asshole. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
His reason for not returning my call might be sorta lame--"my phone died and I didn't get your message until now, I was helping my grandma move into an assisted living facility"--but it's not as bad as I what I was thinking--that he had totally changed his mind about me. It's never as bad as I think it's going to be, and it's never nearly as much about me as I'd like to think. Was he flaky not to be in touch? Yes. Was it a screw-up? Yes. Was it a deal-breaker for the potential that we have in dating? No.
Luckily, I'm about to head out of town for the next two and a half weeks, giving time for me to regain my composure and perspective. It'll prevent me from diving into anything too quickly with Dr. Nutrition or anyone for that matter. And hopefully I'll come back a relatively sane, if not totally exhausted, woman.
Update: I AM THE BIGGEST IDIOT ALIVE!
You all were right. I'll admit it. I let the crazy girl get to me and hit send.
Only minutes later, while on the phone with Comment Bouncer nonetheless, Dr. Nutrition beeps in. I'm expecting he's going to tell me that he's sorry, that he feels bad.
Oh no. He didn't even get the email. He had been away at his parents and his phone had died. He was calling me from the road on his way home.
ACK I AM THE BIGGEST IDIOT!
But, the good news is he's like, "Don't even worry about it. I understand why you felt that way. I'm sure you were wondering why I hadn't called" And he promised to delete my psycho-ish email before reading it. His only request? That I not mention the whole thing ever again.
Self-sabatoge--you almost won! And dearest readers, you all were right.
Only minutes later, while on the phone with Comment Bouncer nonetheless, Dr. Nutrition beeps in. I'm expecting he's going to tell me that he's sorry, that he feels bad.
Oh no. He didn't even get the email. He had been away at his parents and his phone had died. He was calling me from the road on his way home.
ACK I AM THE BIGGEST IDIOT!
But, the good news is he's like, "Don't even worry about it. I understand why you felt that way. I'm sure you were wondering why I hadn't called" And he promised to delete my psycho-ish email before reading it. His only request? That I not mention the whole thing ever again.
Self-sabatoge--you almost won! And dearest readers, you all were right.
Too Good to Be True
It makes me sad to write this post because it means my romance with Dr. Nutrition is over. I hesitantly wrote that I was a bit concerned that he hadn't contacted me since our date on Wednesday, and sadly nothing has changed.
After pole-dancing class (yes, pole-dancing--and it was hard as hell!) with my friend M, we went to have a beer. She is a dating expert, if such a thing exists, and I told her the whole story. Her response was simply, "What the fuck?!" She said, "You have a right to know what's going on. His communication pattern has changed, and he's not keeping you in the loop. You're half of the equation and you have a right to know what's going on." She also added that she doesn't have time to play the waiting game and would rather cut to the chase.
On my way home, I jokingly texted him that I was fairly certain I didn't have a career in pole-dancing ahead of me and asked if he had time to chat. No response. About an hour later, I decided to give him a call. No response. I left him a message, "Haven't heard from you in a few days and was wondering if we could chat before I leave town." No response. No response. No response. No phone call. No text. No email this morning. No Facebook chat. Nada.
I went into my therapy session with C on the brink of tears, and as soon as the door was shut, I started crying. I have so much else going on with this 3-week cross-country trip with a woman from Kenya, but all I can think about is how I just got duped by a guy I mistook for one of the good ones. You all were fooled too, right? What, with the ballroom lessons, the telling his mom about me, the "You're a beautiful person," the date after date routine? WTF?! I repeat, WTF?!
There were no red flags. No signs that he was wavering. Nothing to make me think he was just going to start being a dick and blowing me off. At least with SCL there were warning signs, even if I didn't want to admit it. I. Just. Don't. GET. IT.
Yes, I could excuse him. I could say that he's changing jobs or his phone broke or that he was just busy. But those are excuses, none of which I'm buying. I'm pissed off that he has yet to muster up the decency to say, "Hey, I changed my mind." For a guy who claims to be fearless, he seems like quite the coward right now. A coward I'd love to punch in the face!
So, what to do now? When it has been a full 24 hours, I will send him a final email, ending with "If I don't hear from you, I assume you don't want to see me anymore." Because I'm done with his hot-then-cold of the Katy Perry variety bullshit.
And I also priority shipped a copy of Self-Esteem because clearly I'm going to need some building up again after this disappointment.
After pole-dancing class (yes, pole-dancing--and it was hard as hell!) with my friend M, we went to have a beer. She is a dating expert, if such a thing exists, and I told her the whole story. Her response was simply, "What the fuck?!" She said, "You have a right to know what's going on. His communication pattern has changed, and he's not keeping you in the loop. You're half of the equation and you have a right to know what's going on." She also added that she doesn't have time to play the waiting game and would rather cut to the chase.
On my way home, I jokingly texted him that I was fairly certain I didn't have a career in pole-dancing ahead of me and asked if he had time to chat. No response. About an hour later, I decided to give him a call. No response. I left him a message, "Haven't heard from you in a few days and was wondering if we could chat before I leave town." No response. No response. No response. No phone call. No text. No email this morning. No Facebook chat. Nada.
I went into my therapy session with C on the brink of tears, and as soon as the door was shut, I started crying. I have so much else going on with this 3-week cross-country trip with a woman from Kenya, but all I can think about is how I just got duped by a guy I mistook for one of the good ones. You all were fooled too, right? What, with the ballroom lessons, the telling his mom about me, the "You're a beautiful person," the date after date routine? WTF?! I repeat, WTF?!
There were no red flags. No signs that he was wavering. Nothing to make me think he was just going to start being a dick and blowing me off. At least with SCL there were warning signs, even if I didn't want to admit it. I. Just. Don't. GET. IT.
Yes, I could excuse him. I could say that he's changing jobs or his phone broke or that he was just busy. But those are excuses, none of which I'm buying. I'm pissed off that he has yet to muster up the decency to say, "Hey, I changed my mind." For a guy who claims to be fearless, he seems like quite the coward right now. A coward I'd love to punch in the face!
So, what to do now? When it has been a full 24 hours, I will send him a final email, ending with "If I don't hear from you, I assume you don't want to see me anymore." Because I'm done with his hot-then-cold of the Katy Perry variety bullshit.
And I also priority shipped a copy of Self-Esteem because clearly I'm going to need some building up again after this disappointment.
The Waiting Game
I have nothing new to report regarding Dr. Nutrition other than that I am a crazy person. Leave it to me to have a good time with a guy and then spend countless hours trying to figure out a reason why he can't possibly like me as much as he let on.
The thing is, I really like him. A few weeks ago I wasn't sure, but the combination of time spent talking on the phone plus a really great date this week, I find myself falling pretty hard. I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and enjoy where we are, but my natural inclination is to cling.
Tara Brach
talks a lot about clinging--how when we feel pleasure, we immediately want more of it and finagle ways to hang on to what is inevitably fleeting. This could be anything--the taste of ice cream (and so we get seconds); the relaxation of a vacation (and so we plot where we'll go next); or the beginnings of a new relationship (and so we want to push it along into the next stage).
And so that's what I've been doing. I've been anticipating what will happen next, and it hasn't helped that Dr. Nutrition and I really haven't had much contact since Thursday morning. So of course I assume the worst: he's changed his mind; he doesn't really like me; he's not thinking of me. And so on and so on. My head is currently a pretty miserable place to reside.
Dr. Nutrition is a busy guy and before this week there had been plenty of days when we didn't talk at all. It's just that now I am thinking about him more, so the waiting feels longer and more torturous. I'm just focusing on chilling out and not jumping to the absolute worst conclusion.
Thank you for indulging my neurosis.
The thing is, I really like him. A few weeks ago I wasn't sure, but the combination of time spent talking on the phone plus a really great date this week, I find myself falling pretty hard. I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and enjoy where we are, but my natural inclination is to cling.
Tara Brach
talks a lot about clinging--how when we feel pleasure, we immediately want more of it and finagle ways to hang on to what is inevitably fleeting. This could be anything--the taste of ice cream (and so we get seconds); the relaxation of a vacation (and so we plot where we'll go next); or the beginnings of a new relationship (and so we want to push it along into the next stage).And so that's what I've been doing. I've been anticipating what will happen next, and it hasn't helped that Dr. Nutrition and I really haven't had much contact since Thursday morning. So of course I assume the worst: he's changed his mind; he doesn't really like me; he's not thinking of me. And so on and so on. My head is currently a pretty miserable place to reside.
Dr. Nutrition is a busy guy and before this week there had been plenty of days when we didn't talk at all. It's just that now I am thinking about him more, so the waiting feels longer and more torturous. I'm just focusing on chilling out and not jumping to the absolute worst conclusion.
Thank you for indulging my neurosis.
Keeps Getting Better
Yesterday marked date five with Dr. Nutrition, and it was by far the best date yet. With the late-night phone calls and flirtatious text messages, we were both more than ready to see each other in person. He'd set up this date a few weeks ago. On the third Wednesday of the month, the Bell Wine Shop in Dupont has a "Grand Tasting"--for $5, you can try 40 different wines. Granted it's nothing more than a sip of each one, but let me tell you forty sips add up. And once again, I found myself somewhat accidentally hammered. This has been happening to me quite a lot lately.
I had to smile when one of the other wine tasters referred to Dr. Nutrition as "my boyfriend." I didn't bother to correct them.
After some dinner to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol in our system, we had the awkward, "Where do we go now?" conversation. Since we were already on the red line, I said "Canada" made more sense than my place, and off we went. I got the sense that he was a little embarrassed about the lack of furniture in his room, and since last time he'd acquired a table and a dresser. Still no bed frame, but an improvement for sure.
Before things got too steamy, I wanted to talk with him about sex, as awkward as it felt. Here's my deal: as much as I hate to admit it, I am a stereotypical woman who can't have sex without feeling intensely bonded to the other person. Hell, even some hot, heavy-duty making out can make me start hearing wedding bells. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I am that emotional. But I know how I'm wired and I own it.
So, I said to him. "I really like you, and I don't want to risk messing things up by sleeping together too soon. It doesn't mean I don't want to; it's just that sex makes me feel really attached, and I don't think we're at that point yet." He said, "I completely agree." I couldn't detect any insincerity in his voice--perhaps slight disappointment, but I'm fairly certain that he was being honest when he said he was on the same page. With that out of the way, I let my worries go and enjoyed myself. He declared the bed as a "worry-free" zone, so I really had no choice but to relax and enjoy being close to him.
At 1:30 he asked if I wanted him to drive me home. "Not really, " I said. He invited me to stay, and I spent the whole night with one of his arms under my head and the other wrapped around me. I can't say either of us slept very well, but I didn't care.
We woke up to sunshine and lawnmowers and mockingbirds, and continued to cuddle. I said, "Don't you need to get to work?" He said, "I think I'm going to work from home this morning. In fact, I think I'm already working right now." I laughed, "Oh yeah, how do you figure that?" He said, "I'm working on doing outreach to faith-based organizations." I cracked up and kissed him again, "Oh yeah, I think we've got a great partnership in the works."
Happy day.
I had to smile when one of the other wine tasters referred to Dr. Nutrition as "my boyfriend." I didn't bother to correct them.
After some dinner to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol in our system, we had the awkward, "Where do we go now?" conversation. Since we were already on the red line, I said "Canada" made more sense than my place, and off we went. I got the sense that he was a little embarrassed about the lack of furniture in his room, and since last time he'd acquired a table and a dresser. Still no bed frame, but an improvement for sure.
Before things got too steamy, I wanted to talk with him about sex, as awkward as it felt. Here's my deal: as much as I hate to admit it, I am a stereotypical woman who can't have sex without feeling intensely bonded to the other person. Hell, even some hot, heavy-duty making out can make me start hearing wedding bells. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I am that emotional. But I know how I'm wired and I own it.
So, I said to him. "I really like you, and I don't want to risk messing things up by sleeping together too soon. It doesn't mean I don't want to; it's just that sex makes me feel really attached, and I don't think we're at that point yet." He said, "I completely agree." I couldn't detect any insincerity in his voice--perhaps slight disappointment, but I'm fairly certain that he was being honest when he said he was on the same page. With that out of the way, I let my worries go and enjoyed myself. He declared the bed as a "worry-free" zone, so I really had no choice but to relax and enjoy being close to him.
At 1:30 he asked if I wanted him to drive me home. "Not really, " I said. He invited me to stay, and I spent the whole night with one of his arms under my head and the other wrapped around me. I can't say either of us slept very well, but I didn't care.
We woke up to sunshine and lawnmowers and mockingbirds, and continued to cuddle. I said, "Don't you need to get to work?" He said, "I think I'm going to work from home this morning. In fact, I think I'm already working right now." I laughed, "Oh yeah, how do you figure that?" He said, "I'm working on doing outreach to faith-based organizations." I cracked up and kissed him again, "Oh yeah, I think we've got a great partnership in the works."
Happy day.
Back in Session: Week Nine of Therapy
When I went to my last therapy session at the end of May, things were looking a lot different than they do now, to say the least. I wasn't happy. I was still in the old apartment. SCL and I were still together and fighting over the couch. She was uber preggers.Yesterday I hardly recognized her without the belly!
With only 50 minutes to fill her in on the last three and a half months, I gave her the Reader's Digest version: I moved out; SCL broke up with me; I cried; I went on vacation; I decided to start dating; I had a beach fling; I got a crush on Dr. Nutrition. It kind of makes my head spin just thinking about it. But, with all of this going on, what was really interesting is that I wasn't too fixated on dealing with the, "Is dating a good idea?" question but rather with the insecurities I am feeling now that I've found someone I'm interested in.
So, as cliche as it sounds, C and I are going to be talking about....wait for it...SELF-ESTEEM ISSUES! Especially around body image and food. AWESOME. Cannot wait to delve into all my bullshit about that. But, C is super supportive, and if there's anyone I feel comfortable admitting I've got issues with, it's her. Oh yeah, and all of you in the blogging world, too.
In the meantime, Dr. Nutrition and I spent another night on the phone last night after he finished reffing his soccer games. He said, "For two people who hate to talk on the phone, we sure have been doing a lot of it." A good sign, right? Tonight for our fifth date we are going wine tasting, which I'm super excited about. Oh, and if I can gush for just a moment, he, knowing how much I love ballroom dance, actually bought a package of dance lessons, so he can learn the basics and we can dance together. I like this one.
Teenage Dream
That's how I feel right now--like I've regressed about 12 years and have a teenage crush. And, it is fantastic! With Mr. Navy out of the picture (we've since talked as friends, and I am feeling less dumb), my attention has turned to Dr. Nutrition.
Call me foolish or a hopeless romantic, but I have a good feeling about this one. I'm finding that I don't have a whole lot of desire to go on many first dates right now. (The one I had scheduled with Mr. Sayid-lookalike cancelled at the last minute, and I am debating whether or not to reschedule. The real reason I wanted to go out with him was the aforementioned resemblance to my favorite Lost Iraqi survivor.) I guess I burned out pretty fast with the 4 dates/week.
For the last two nights, Dr. Nutrition and I have stayed up way past my bedtime talking on the phone. The thing is, I don't even like talking on the phone. I'd rather have a Harry Potter owl or something. Say what you want about how brilliant cell phones are, but I swear to God, it's impossible to get a clear connection and there were moments when I literally had to ask him to repeat something five times. I felt like a grandma and questioned whether or not I should have my hearing tested.
But, despite the constant "Huh? What?" on my end, it has been fantastic getting to know him more. I think it's a good sign that we can talk for 3 hours and not run out of things to talk about. Sure, we are just getting to know each other, but there have been some dates when I haven't had an hour's worth of shared interests to go on. But, with Dr. Nutrition the conversation just flows effortlessly and even makes me forget momentarily how much I fucking hate talking on the phone. We have a date tomorrow night (wine tasting, my favorite!) and I can't wait to see him in person.
This is all so exciting and incredibly terrifying at the same time. Part of me wants to say, "Hold on, lady. You need to take it slowly." But the other part of me says, "Quit over-thinking every little thing and just go for it!" He's giving me the green light. He even told me that he's shown my picture to his mom. I feel like this is not the run-of-the-mill, "I'd like to get into your pants" line. Again, trying not to over-think things.
Last week in the middle of thinking about SCL, Mr. Navy, and Dr. Nutrition, I thought, "Where the hell is my damn therapist? Surely she's off of maternity leave by now!" We have an appointment today. Really looking forward to spilling my guts and filling her in on what's been going on since the end of May. She's in for an earful.
Call me foolish or a hopeless romantic, but I have a good feeling about this one. I'm finding that I don't have a whole lot of desire to go on many first dates right now. (The one I had scheduled with Mr. Sayid-lookalike cancelled at the last minute, and I am debating whether or not to reschedule. The real reason I wanted to go out with him was the aforementioned resemblance to my favorite Lost Iraqi survivor.) I guess I burned out pretty fast with the 4 dates/week.
For the last two nights, Dr. Nutrition and I have stayed up way past my bedtime talking on the phone. The thing is, I don't even like talking on the phone. I'd rather have a Harry Potter owl or something. Say what you want about how brilliant cell phones are, but I swear to God, it's impossible to get a clear connection and there were moments when I literally had to ask him to repeat something five times. I felt like a grandma and questioned whether or not I should have my hearing tested.
But, despite the constant "Huh? What?" on my end, it has been fantastic getting to know him more. I think it's a good sign that we can talk for 3 hours and not run out of things to talk about. Sure, we are just getting to know each other, but there have been some dates when I haven't had an hour's worth of shared interests to go on. But, with Dr. Nutrition the conversation just flows effortlessly and even makes me forget momentarily how much I fucking hate talking on the phone. We have a date tomorrow night (wine tasting, my favorite!) and I can't wait to see him in person.
This is all so exciting and incredibly terrifying at the same time. Part of me wants to say, "Hold on, lady. You need to take it slowly." But the other part of me says, "Quit over-thinking every little thing and just go for it!" He's giving me the green light. He even told me that he's shown my picture to his mom. I feel like this is not the run-of-the-mill, "I'd like to get into your pants" line. Again, trying not to over-think things.
Last week in the middle of thinking about SCL, Mr. Navy, and Dr. Nutrition, I thought, "Where the hell is my damn therapist? Surely she's off of maternity leave by now!" We have an appointment today. Really looking forward to spilling my guts and filling her in on what's been going on since the end of May. She's in for an earful.
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