I'm terrible at emotional intimacy. Although I joke about sex and dating with friends, and occasionally write about feelings, I rarely express them. Christ, I can barely identify them.
I'm in a new relationship thingie and am at a complete loss. After two months, can I ask him if he's still dating others? Do I want to know? If he is, I'll be hurt, but if he's not am I someone's girlfriend? That freaks me out. I'm so accustomed to emotionally needy men that I feel insecure that he's not all up in my shit, and dumbfounded that I'm not needed as a rescue dog. Our senses of humor meshed right away, the sex is fun, and we have a fair amount in common, but I'm obsessing about stupid stuff. I hate talking on the phone, so I sound awkward whenever we talk. It must be loads of fun to call a chick and hear, "Yeah, that's cool, that's cool, good, uh-huh."
I wish I could talk to people. It's gotten a little better, especially with my sister, but unless an absolute crisis happens and I have to tell people what's really going on, I'm usually the one with the crazy dating stories or light hearted anecdotes that make everyone laugh, but a part of me is really just asking, Could you help me out here?
Shit. Out of the blue I said to him as I was leaving, "My brother called from CA to say Happy Birthday. It was cool to hear from him." He looked at me blankly for a moment, and who could blame him, and said, "Oh, nice." What I was thinking was, "Oh, God, my addict brother actually remembered to call me, remembered my birthday. He said he's coming off the meds that helped him to get over his addiction to Oxycotin. I hope he's ok. He sounded a little distraught, but not high. God, I hope he makes it this time. He's been through so much."
Or..."Bye, babe. Yep, school starts next week, will try to keep you on my calendar." I think I wanted to say, "Hey, my life is about to get busy again, and I'll have my son back for all but two weekends a month. You're important to me, so if you're interested in continuing a relationship, we'll have to get creative about seeing each other. Your daughters seem great; maybe we can do things altogether once in a while? I don't have overnight guests-even the guy I dated for 3 years didn't stay when my son was home, but I'd be willing to talk about it in the near future if it feels right for the both of us."
And for reasons I won't get into right now, I'm sitting here hating myspace, overanalyzing his parting comment of the phone conversation we had after I forced myself to call ("We'll touch base about Friday." Sounds promising...not.), and thinking what's the point of even bothering. Ever, with any of it.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
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Emotions are easy, you just make them up.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts...
--"As You Like It"
Cast in this unlikely role,
Ill-equipped to act
With insufficient tact
One must put up barriers
To keep oneself intact
--"Limelight"
--Taupey von Termagant
(n.b.: History will show that Rush lyrics in fact hold the key to the Universe. It will take 500 years, but trust me on this).
Actually, I quite agree with you on the Rush lyrics. Fell in love with them way back after first hearing (no clue as to the title, don't feel like googling) song about Pascal, wager, free will. Right now I'm feeling gringly. Well, and gassy, but is that an emotion?
Gringly and gassy and buttons on mittens,
some kinds of puppies but no fucking kittens
These are a few of my favorite things...
Brought to you by: Boy Howdy Beer.
"Free Will" is pretty much a Comparative Religions 101 synopsis.
I would party with Pascal any day of the week. ("Blaise, dude, no, no more body shots, seriously Blaiseman, stop."). Pascal, Descartes and Newton. It would be like "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" only with liquor and more math. I'd invite the Bernouli brothers but those bastards were like the Olsen twins of Enlightenment.
--Taupey, avoiding the low lying fruit of a "second that emotion" comment.
"...but the those bastards were like the Olsen twins of the Enlightenement." T, you have outdone yourself. There just may be the tiniest hint of pee in my panties. Pascal hated Descartes; nothing like a huge drunken brawl to end the evening. "Sacre bleu, Rene,YOU'RE a bloody vacuum. Tu ne penses pas; donc, tu n'es pas!" They tear at each others' clothing-the religious messages that had been sewn into their garments rip apart, hats fly, mulit-syllabic epithets hurl. All the while, Newton calmly juggles apples and takes the wagers the other patrons are placing on the outcome of the fight...
Excellent visual, but you forgot the hair KS--the WIGS, my God, the wigs, and the doubtless pathetic pates beneath same.
--T
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