And also there is the Justin factor. I'll continue to edit since even though we have decided to afford each other the privacy of our own little public diaries, he will probably get bored and read it sometime.
Not that I have anything bad to say about Justin. It has been weird though, living together. It's very hard for me to live with someone, especially a guy, that I am not in love with- what I mean is... I like living alone unless it was living with Lee, which I really liked. I've never been the sort of person who can be fine without having a lot of privacy, and between having to leave my bedroom door- which opens into the kitchen, where Justin spends a lot of time- open all the time, so the cats can get to their litter box in the next room, and Justin getting into the laundry room- which is connected to my bedroom- to iron and wash clothes, I basically have no privacy whatsoever. This is a very bad arrangement for me, but the fact that Justin signed the lease and turned on all the utilities for us, pays the rent on time and is totally lax about the fact that I am in and out of town on a regular basis, AND doesn't mind giving my cats the love while I'm gone, really cancels out the bad. Justin is a great roommate.
But the fact that we are roommates and that he already sees the intimate details of my life on a daily basis, and that basically no aspect of my life that goes on in our apartment is private, has made me sort of protective of my thoughts, where him reading them before when we just hung out every week or whatever, really didn't bother me at all. Sometimes I feel like Justin, just by default, is involved in my life almost as much as any boyfriend of mine has ever been, which freaks me out somehow. I didn't realize I was so easily spooked out. I also didn't realize I was such a private person, but I haven't really had a roommate since my second year of college.
Anyway- I have also not been writing anything anywhere else since the end of September. While I was nannying, on the extended overnight periods, I was writing a lot of one of the novels I started a year or two ago, getting some really good stuff. Since then I have started a writer's group and have no material to share.
The main reason I almost never have anything to say in this diary anymore is that I am just sick to death of analyzing things. Most of the time, there isn't anything to deduce. You never know what is going to happen, and you never really know why the things that happen do, so the analysis is an exercise in futility.
But, as anyone who regularly reads this knows, the one thing I need to write out, to figure out, is relationships with other people, especially romantic relationships.
M. and I have stopped seeing each other. We both decided at the beginning that it wouldn't be complicated, and were both good at keeping to that I think. But it didn't stop it from being complicated. There were feelings there, and old "healed" wounds, and every time we were together it was laden with meaning but not really, and there were words, specifically "I love you," that I wanted to say but couldn't for fear it would be taken not as a sentiment but as a promise of some kind. M. told me he was a big boy and could take care of himself, but even so- I kept thinking that I was in the prime position to hurt him again. Still though, while I was sick and had nothing but hours and hours to lie around and think, I thought of him and wondered if it was one of those strange twists of fate- our short but rocky ancient history turning into a passionate affair turning into something real. The thought of that happening both repelled me and attracted me.
But, things didn't turn out that way. I got mad at him for not coming to see me while I was sick, he went to England for a week, he came home and emailed me that he couldn't wait to see me, and then called three hours before we were supposed to get together to tell me that he had met someone else... but we could still continue our thing if I wanted to. I said no, that I was very happy for him that he had found someone to make him stop pretending he had a cold, hard heart (which is what he'd been trying to get me to believe for a month and a half), and that I thought he really deserved to find someone and be happy. He told me "thanks for being so reasonable."
The truth is that I had been thinking about C., the guy I met at the corner pocket the week before.
I guess I'm trained to look for signs that fate is working visibly in my life. I wish I could stop that. I've quit drawing runes and looking for "signs" around every corner because that shit drove me crazy, but so many events in my past, when I look back on them, seem so obviously fateful that I feel like if I had been aware, I could have seen them as they were happening. My first moment of feeling like I had become presently aware, was during the awful events with the guy in the air force this summer. Even as bad things were happening and being said, I felt aware of Fate. Like I felt connected with a part of myself that was existing in a future where all these bad things made sense, and had already led to something even better. The pain I was feeling was intense but at the same time tempered by this bizarre feeling that it was all a big illusion. After all, if I were existing off in the future, happy, and possessing hindsight, knowing that this pain was necessary for my life to lead me somewhere else, where I was meant to be- then how could I really feel the pain? How could the event that was necessary and providential be causing me pain? And yet, of course, it was.
So, since then, I've felt differently about emotional pain, but I'm not sure I can describe it yet.
Whenever I hear my sister-in-law talk about how she met my brother, I can't help but believe in fate. If you knew my brother and sister-in-law, you would have a hard time believing that Fate had anything to do with bringing them together. She is bitchy and unreasonable, and he won't tolerate her crap and generally just leaves when she starts to bitch. I guess they have something other than their baby to keep them together, and I have given up trying to figure out/understand what that thing is. My s-i-l doesn't have too many friends because of her personality. She's from Romania, she's lived a tough life, and she has decided that she doesn't have any time left for putting up with other people's crap, except for my brother I guess. I can understand how she feels about that a lot of the time. But anyway, one of her few friends invited her out for a drink one night. I have never once known of my s-i-l wanting to or agreeing to go to a bar. But for whatever reason, that night, she decided to go, and ended up sitting next to my brother at the bar. He was probably drunk, and they started talking, shopping for books came up, and as he was leaving, he wrote his number on a scrap of paper and told her if she ever wanted to meet up and go to Barnes and Noble, to give him a call. S-i-l isn't the type to call, but my brother is a catch- maybe that's why- and she did. He told me later that he wasn't even that interested in her when he gave her his number. But, they got together and now they're married.
I know that isn't Fate in the Hollywook sense, but I believe in a different fate- providential fate- fate that leads you where you're supposed to go. The way things happen always seems to be random. I met Lee on the internet, but it was in the middle of the day, when he was usually at work, and it was almost completely by accident. The fact that we were positioned properly to talk that day and be interested enough in each other to talk again is so incredibly unlikely- that's why I believe that the universe is choreographed.
So last night I was lying in bed thinking about C. Nothing more, really, (okay that is a lie) than how things happened to intertwine our lives. I won't lie- I like this guy as much as a person can like another person after 2 weeks, and I'm a romantic, so yes- I'm sort of starry-eyed right now, but keeping my feet on the ground, I think. Anyway- in my imagination I see him going to school in New York City, while my life swirled around in Chicago- then him, moving here a year ago, and me and Justin moving a little further from his neighborhood, then that Saturday night that I met him, my friends calling me and me saying we should go to XYZ bar, and them calling back and telling me to meet them at the corner pocket. Then the bizarre chain of events that made me take almost three hours to get there- not being able to get a cab, not being able to get change to use a pay phone, the cab I was finally able to call for never showing, and finally driving to Lincoln Park and trying to park on a Saturday night. By the time I got there, it was 10 already. I drank 3 beers and then it was 12:30 and my friends wanted to leave and I was overserved and couldn't drive home.
So they left, and I stayed, and made my way to the bar for some water where I sat next to a group of guys who were facing away from me. And before I even finished asking the bartender for some water the guy to my right had already turned around and started talking to me.
Any number of events could have prevented that initial interaction from taking place- I could have gotten a cab and been ready to leave when my friends did; I could have kept talking to the guy I was talking to in the pool hall part of the bar; I could have chosen a different seat, or decided to risk the drive home. C. could have gone to a different bar... or never said anything to me.
I guess things like that start to seem more fateful the more you connect with the person who is involved in them. I had such a good time with C. on Friday. He picked me up, and the first thing he said to me was, "I have to tell you something." I thought he was going to cancel on me but he stepped into the light and said, "Look at my face." He was totally embarrassed- his face was all blotchy and red, I guess he was having some kind of allergic reaction to something. Then when we got to the restaurant he'd told me he wanted to take me to, there was an hour wait and we found out it was BYOB. So that was out, and he was all flustered that he didn't have a plan B. He's new here so he didn't really even know where else to go so I ended up planning our night, and we took several other detours, had an incredible dinner and sat at a crowded bar (a booth opened up the second we walked in the door) and talked for four hours.
C. seems to think I am really incredible and I want to believe it's sincere. I seem to think he's incredible and I want to believe that I'm sincere and not just enjoying throwing myself into another romantic situation. He is older, and smart, and doing great things with his life. He's from Texas and likes to tell me how he's got the gentleman thing mastered- I noticed he waited when he dropped me off to see that I got in- he's really funny when he ribs me and it was just so much fun hanging out with him. We've been talking and sending retarded emails since the night we met- he called me the next day to tell me how much fun he'd had talking to me at the corner pocket- and he seems to be afraid that I don't want to go out with him as much as he wants to go out with me. He told me that he was looking forward to us going out all week last week- and so was I, I noticed how I was thinking about Friday like thinking about a trip out of town or good party or something- and that he'd been thinking about me a lot more than he thought he would. He made a lot of comments about things he'd told people at work about me. He told me he called one of his out of town friends to read him something I had emailed to him. We agreed that neither of us receives compliments well and so he warned me, "I'm about to compliment you," and then told me I have beautiful eyes. Every time he smiled that night there was an element of shyness to it. He kept bringing up his blotchy face even though I hadn't noticed it since the first time he had mentioned it, at my door. He told me as the bar was getting ready to close, "just so you know- we're going out again." He wanted to go to another bar til 4, but instead we just ended up driving around listening to GNR and Pearl Jam and laughing about how dorky it is to listen to "Patience" over and over again. We kissed in a little deserted parking lot for Three Star Cantonese Food and the song Release was playing, and he told me that that song would always make him think of me now. He kept replaying the song and kept kissing me. He was a great kisser.
Yesterday I was taking a nap, since our night ended at 4 am and Justin's morning started at 9:30 (I have yet to sleep through more than a few of Justin's mornings). C. called me and I answered sleepily and hearing his voice was like piling more happy on top of the great night I'd had before. He said, "I'm just calling to say hi. So hi." We talked, talked about the night before, talked about him going grocery shopping and thinking of me when he saw broccoli. And a lot of other things before he had to go.
So far it all seems so fateful, things look so good for this. I said to my mom today, "I want to get married, I'm tired of being single," and the words caught me by surprise, sort of- because it is still weird to me to feel ready to make a commitment to someone. There has rarely been a time since I broke up with Lee that I didn't want someone around- I always wanted to be in love- but I never really felt a sense of inner readiness to find someone who is right to actually be with long term. So- I've obviously been evaluating him for that. I like that he's older, I like that he knows what he's doing and where he's going, I like that he's already said unprompted that he doesn't cheat or lie, I like it that I can already tell he's good in bed, and that he likes to go out, and he's a therapist, so there's a decent chance he knows how to handle his own problems. He told me he wasn't sure about marrying his last girlfriend, which was a while ago, because she had unrealistic expectations of marriage. These are all good signs.
But a few nights ago he called, and we were talking about the fact that I am a hardass smack-talker and he informed me that he likes it... that I keep him on his toes, because, "I get bored with people easily." Red flag. Red flag.
I was talking to my mom this morning about that very thing, and she said, "Sheesh, did you tell him you're a perfect match? The way you get bored so quickly..." And I thought about it... and she's right.
This worries me.
It is hard to center myself back here, in the now, at... 1:59 p.m. on Sunday afternoon and realize that all my worrying really won't prepare me for any eventual hardship, no matter how much I think about it. I want to get into something serious and long-term pretty soon, but there is so much for me to worry about, things I want to figure out and have worked out beforehand, that I don't think I can figure out. I want to know how not to get bored with someone, and I worry about things people say before we are even together- I worry about statements like the one he made. I worry about falling madly in love and then having someone tell me he is bored with me, doesn't feel it anymore and has to leave. I am worried about getting married and having kids and being left. And it just gets broader and broader: worried about being alone, worried about death. Fear. Fear. Fear.
Anyway, C. is great. I have given him the impression that I have a life (muahahahaha), so he is sort of intimidated, I guess. He was poking around asking me if I wanted to get a beer last Monday- after he'd been telling me how he wanted to take me out to this restaurant over and over and over again the night we met- and I had to beat around the bush for about 5 entire minutes before he said, "Well I told you I want to take you to *******, but you're the one who is always busy, and I didn't want to ask you to go out this weekend because I'm sure you want to go out with your friends...[editor's note: HA]" I found it all very adorable. Yesterday, we didn't make any plans, so I still don't know if we can kick this up in time to do something on Valentine's Day or not. I didn't think I gave a shit about that day but now that I'm all smitten I really feel fucking great.
The best part of Friday night- when we were parked in front of my building, and he kissed me, and then leaned back and smiled and laughed under his breath and said, "you're so pretty." And then kissed me again.
No wait. The best part of Friday night- him taking me to dinner and buying me drinks all night and still not thinking he was entitled to grab my tits until I've made it clear that it's okay. I'm moving to Texas.
So, now that I have written out all the details that have been floating through my head, maybe I can finally do some work so I can ameliorate the status of my wallet and stop dreaming about C. and his kisses and how I am starting to miss living with someone again, and thinking of how nice he is and how much potential fun and happiness there is to be had here. Actually, I probably won't be able to do either of those things, but I definitely missed writing them all out to be on the internet for all of the world to have access to.
© beotch at
2:05 p.m.
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