In Which I Wonder
I sit on the edge of my bed in my underwear and t-shirt, eating a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios at 2 AM. Crunch crunch crunch. Stare at the bookcase and wonder why I was so fiercely hungry when I got home. Oh yeah, I ate a shrimp salad for dinner at like five. I sit on the edge of my bed and wonder what will happen.
Wondering what will happen is a very delicate thing to do. Because if you wonder too much, you are soon snowballing out of control and worrying about everything. Luckily, I seem to have got a hold of the reigns on this one, because I'm realizing that whatever does happen, I can't do anything about it--and I especially can't do anything about it at 2 AM in my underwear and t-shirt with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. My life is not perfect, nobody's is, and while mine may have been an imitation of just-about-perfect up until I graduated high school, the highs of spirituality and self-enlightenment that have come along with this non-perfection since then are just worth it. So Julie, stop worrying, get to sleep, and for heaven's sakes, get out of bed in the morning.
Will Rubio did ask me "hypothetically" what being exclusive would mean. After a long, pulling-teeth kind of discussion, including what to do about my date on Saturday with Calmy to the SKI LIFT, where apparently (according to Will) people just make out, which I don't really don't want to do with Calmy, Will Rubio said this:
"I'd like you not to go on Saturday, but I'm not in the position yet to be able to tell you that."
AKA, he's terrified. I don't blame him. Exclusiveness is a heck of a lot to worry about, and a heck of a lot to go wrong. But if you don't try, then you never have relationships. And I'm really just thrilled that he even brought it up. So completely thrilled. I need to remember that when I wake up in the morning so I don't freak out.
Dear Self,
Take it slow. Stop worrying about the status of you and Will's relationship, it's been barely two weeks. He's a 29-year-old man who hasn't been able to get himself into relationships because he just hasn't taken that path, and now he might be doing it. Of course it's going to take him a second. And if it doesn't happen, which you kind of know it will, or at least, hope, don't you think you'll be able to move on pretty quickly? Yes, he's funny, and very good-looking, but neither of those are the end of the world, as a dozen or so previous experiences have told you.
Love.
Self.
Wondering what will happen is a very delicate thing to do. Because if you wonder too much, you are soon snowballing out of control and worrying about everything. Luckily, I seem to have got a hold of the reigns on this one, because I'm realizing that whatever does happen, I can't do anything about it--and I especially can't do anything about it at 2 AM in my underwear and t-shirt with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. My life is not perfect, nobody's is, and while mine may have been an imitation of just-about-perfect up until I graduated high school, the highs of spirituality and self-enlightenment that have come along with this non-perfection since then are just worth it. So Julie, stop worrying, get to sleep, and for heaven's sakes, get out of bed in the morning.
Will Rubio did ask me "hypothetically" what being exclusive would mean. After a long, pulling-teeth kind of discussion, including what to do about my date on Saturday with Calmy to the SKI LIFT, where apparently (according to Will) people just make out, which I don't really don't want to do with Calmy, Will Rubio said this:
"I'd like you not to go on Saturday, but I'm not in the position yet to be able to tell you that."
AKA, he's terrified. I don't blame him. Exclusiveness is a heck of a lot to worry about, and a heck of a lot to go wrong. But if you don't try, then you never have relationships. And I'm really just thrilled that he even brought it up. So completely thrilled. I need to remember that when I wake up in the morning so I don't freak out.
Dear Self,
Take it slow. Stop worrying about the status of you and Will's relationship, it's been barely two weeks. He's a 29-year-old man who hasn't been able to get himself into relationships because he just hasn't taken that path, and now he might be doing it. Of course it's going to take him a second. And if it doesn't happen, which you kind of know it will, or at least, hope, don't you think you'll be able to move on pretty quickly? Yes, he's funny, and very good-looking, but neither of those are the end of the world, as a dozen or so previous experiences have told you.
Love.
Self.