It's the Little Things that Nag at Us

In any relationship, seriously ANY, there are things that nag away at our core. These are the little things. Sometimes these little things gather up in our proverbial closet and we keep shoving them in until one day they just come tumbling out of it and we're left to face the mess we've ignored for so long.

Then again, if we address those little nuances, we're in for a life of nitpicking and fighting without actually looking at the bigger picture. All those little things that bother us so much are symptomatic of the deeper issues that we may have as individuals and the existing issues in the relationship.

In my case, at least, upon further inspection of these little things that nag me I found that they all came back to the same place: fear. I'm afraid of being vulnerable, afraid that I'm more into this relationship than my boyfriend, and afraid that I'll screw this up somehow.

I realize that this has seventy five percent to do with myself and my psyche. In fact, I don't think I have ever allowed myself to become so vulnerable in a relationship so quickly, and to feel that the other person is holding back emotionally for the sake of maintaining a semblance of control is unnerving. Of course, it's annoying because I've done that before and I know how and why it seems like a good option.

The real truth is that I feel unhinged, vulnerable, and out of control, which is why instead of blowing up at any single thing, I retreated into my mind in order to look for patterns. Once I found the glaringly obvious reason for these little speed bumps, I also realized that I cannot force anyone to come to the same conclusion I have, that perhaps part of my problem is that I need instant gratification and lack patience to see things through.

That doesn't mean, however, that I'm going to keep quiet forever. I can sort through the mess, find the pattern and work it out within myself, but that 25% that is the relationship also needs to be sorted out. That is just something that I can't do on my own.

We Need to Talk

The talk.

Those two words carry a variety of connotations within the dating scenario. None of those are good. In fact, those are the two words that will inevitably make a man run to the hills like there's no tomorrow and he's being chased by a pack of wolves.

In this scenario, you are the pack of wolves, of course.

I, for one, hate the talk.  I would much rather do as I have done in the past and ignore the situation all together because the idea of verbalizing what's going in my head makes me want to throw up (and head to the hills like I'm being chased by a pack of wolves).

Perhaps it's because I am not one for confrontation to the ones I care about, or perhaps it's because I'm afraid of the outcome of these so-called talks. In my current relationship, the talk has loomed over my head for a while now, and like Marie Antoinette, beheading is imminent, at the very least.

 So, do I drink a bottle of wine and let the words come out as they may, or do I formulate an apologetic, yet direct and assertive, speech designed to explain the innermost workings of my troubled brain? I could keep quiet, but if past performance is any indicator of the success of that tactic, I'm in for a lot of trouble and heartache.

It seems to me that no matter what choice I take, I risk getting hurt. Then again, isn't that the nature of relationships?

Like any good composition teacher, I know that it's all in the rhetorical situation. I mean, I'm not going to drop this talk in the middle of a group hangout, or in the middle of other activities. The time and place has to be (not necessarily perfect) acceptable to have a conversation that will hopefully clarify the reality of the situation versus the mess that's going in my head.

Because the fact of the matter is that as much as I would like to, my boyfriend cannot read my mind, and I cannot divine his. Even more so, the more I try to imagine what's going on through that mind of his, my inner self-hater interjects with a few choice ideas on how I'm awful, and how he's probably re-thinking the whole relationship every single second of every single day.

I know that some of this is on me, and I, for one, am trying to sort the mess that's in my head and understand that reality does not match my thoughts, especially those self-hating ones laced with abandonment issues. Then again, once I finish having "the talk" with myself, I can start thinking of way of having "the talk" with him.

There are Dresses, and then There's THE Dress

There are dresses that make you want to be a bride. This is one of them:

Hi, can I have this and get married tomorrow?
Thanks.

Of course, I'd just rather wear that dress to some fancy event if I'm not getting married to the right person. I mean, the right dress does not make the wrong person right.

Then there are men who make you want to be a bride. I think my current boyfriend fits the bill.

Also, I may be losing my mind (alongside my heart).

Wanting to Have it All... And Fried Chicken Strips

I can't sleep. Maybe it's because I ate fried chicken strips late at night. Maybe it's because I'm worried I'll never be able to get a car. Maybe it's because I'm an idiot. Maybe it's because I have too many thoughts.

Seriously, though, the chicken strips are most of it.

Well, that and the fact that I told my boyfriend I was in love with him a month ago. Why would I do such a thing? Because I'm an idiot.

His response? He said he cared about me. Romantic, no? (I vote no)

THE END.

Only not quite. I'm freaking out. I've been freaking out and hiding my crazy for a month now. I don't know how much longer I can leash the crazy in.

Once he realizes the bag of crazy I carry around in me, it's over. That, or he's re-evaluating his priorities.

The crazy is motivated by the idea that, well, I really didn't set out to be in a relationship. You see, this guy pursued me. He wanted this. I wasn't sold on being in a relationship (hello, my track record dating after the breakup shows how much of a grey area I was used to). In fact, he was the only one of the guys I dated after the breakup (6 if you must know) that flat out wanted me to see no one else but him (and said so during our first date).

He won me over little by little until, well, I was a goner. Then I fucked things up and told him. Now I'm on the receiving end of static. Oh, fuck me.

Now, that is not to say he's a horrible boyfriend. Quite the opposite, actually. During the five months we've dated, he's always acted like he's in love with me. Yet, he doesn't say it. Then I play this game in my head, the "would you rather" game. I ask myself, "Would you rather have someone who says he loves you and doesn't act like it or someone who acts like it but doesn't say it?"

Then my bitchy self chimes in and declares that I shouldn't have to choose because I should have it all.

And I do. I do want to have it all. I want him to allow himself to be as vulnerable as I've allowed myself to be in this relationship because I've loved and lost, too, and because it would make me feel like we're on equal footing. I want him to want to be with me every day. I want him to choose to be with me over and over and over again.

Who knows? Maybe I do have those things I want but am not seeing them. Maybe I don't. How will I ever know? When do I cut my losses? Do I have to stop wanting to have it all?

Maybe if I stop wanting to have it all, I won't lose sight of what I have in the moment. The problem with wanting to have it all is that it's unrealistic and cruel for everyone. People can only give so much of themselves, and sometimes they're doing the best they can.

I know that I'm the impulsive one. I know that he's the calculated, calm one. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe he can balance me out.

Lord knows premature "I love you"s are my specialty, and even when said back they are not guarantees of happily ever afters.

Until then, these chicken strips and my thoughts will keep me up because I'm an idiot with no self-control..

More Questions, Unanswered

There comes a time in every new relationship where the magic wears off an we're left wondering how to get that bit of magic back. Because that little magic makes the mundane bearable and everything seems to run smoothly. No matter how little or how long it lasted, we always end up feeling like it wasn't enough time at all.

Without the magic, the honeymoon phase, or whatever it is that we choose to call it, we are left staring at the harsh reality, much like staring at your reflection under neon lights. That's the moment where we choose to work it out or cut our losses and get out of the game.

When we decide to stick it out for the sake of propriety, love, affection, curiosity, or what have you, we know that it's not necessarily going to be easier. We cling to the hope that this time it'll work out and that it'll be different.

What happens, then, when you see the patterns reemerging once again? Patterns that you thought you'd left in your previous relationship. If the person you're now with displays some of the same patterns as the old one, does this mean that the problem is you and not them? Are you the one bringing out this side of them?

Is this new relationship that showed so much promise destined to fail? Or can you manage these issues in a different way this time? What happens when the dust settles and the magic is gone?

Failed Relationship PTSD

It was morning. I was walking to work.

It was a hot morning, mind you. I was simultaneously walking to work and dissecting every event of the previous night, looking for clues that it was time to abandon a potentially sinking relationship ship.

That’s where it hit me, and by it I don’t mean the proverbial relationship ship. It hit me that I am a sufferer from failed relationship PTSD, but I’m probably not alone in this group of people.

Let’s define what I mean by failed relationship PTSD, shall we?

Failed Relationship PTSD: After being brutally bludgeoned in the heart by an unsuccessful amorous tryst, the person becomes consumed with the desire to anticipate if a relationship is going to fail or not quickly, oftentimes leading to grim conclusions that become self-fulfilling prophecies. This person oftentimes looks for “warning signs” that may or may not be there, projects those to the future and makes rash judgments. Person may or may not be plagued with both uncertainty and flashbacks of good and bad moments of the previous relationship, which he or she compares to any future relationship.

If you do not count yourself in this group of people, consider yourself lucky.  

After the demise of a six point three year-long relationship, in which there were one point three years of engagement (you know, to be married), I have become one of those people who live in constant fear of things ending suddenly and without obvious warning signs. And why shouldn’t I? The warning signs, red flags and neon clowns jumping up and down with signs that say “DON’T DO IT. RUN AWAY!” are only glaringly obvious in hindsight.

As a sufferer of failed relationship PTSD, I’m trying to manage my relationship anxiety by breathing, taking a step back, breathing again, and drinking a glass of wine (or a bottle) when that doesn’t work. I’m kidding. Mostly.

What I have been doing is keeping myself busy with friends and turning my energies into cooking things beyond the “just add water” variety.

Alas, I don’t believe my failed relationship PTSD will be over any time soon, but we’re all relegated to deal with our pasts, for better or worse. I wouldn’t be the person I am without that last relationship; yes, I have baggage and some ghosts, but don’t we all?

If all’s fair in love and war, and if love is a battlefield, then PTSD just means I’m alive and coping.