Perfection is as lonely as I imagined it would be.
Throughout class, I felt like he was trying to get my attention. He’s told me many a’ times that he looks at me during class; to me, however, he usually either seems to be lost in an early-morning daze or participating. I smiled, waved, whatever - just to make clear that yesterday was an anomaly. That is and is not the truth. It is - ‘cause I plan on dealing with my issues on from this point. It isn’t - ‘cause early today, I really felt I was continuing to fall apart.
I had a matter of importance to take up with the professor as soon as class ended, and knowing he had only ten minutes to get to his next class, I felt a huge relief. I couldn’t walk with him. I couldn’t fake a smile for those measly ten minutes. I just couldn’t. The pieces of my smile were cracked and stretched in various directions and I couldn’t remember how it all went together before. My fortune surprises me still, as this boy who has - as my boyfriend refers to it - a “not-so-secret” crush on me waited with me and walked me to the parking lot. I felt devious, but innocently enough. I didn’t plan to be vengeful and I didn’t really do anything not right. A superficial power came of it: I found my smile again.
When I got home, I e-mailed him some cheer then napped off this flu for a few hours. He wrote an e-mail back - which included some concern about my behavior in class. As I hit reply, there was a knock at my door. By the time I got back to the computer, he was messaging me wondering where I was and why I was online but not replying to his e-mail. We chatted for a few minutes and then I had to leave for an appointment. I had to get going and I said goodbye without explanation. I visited with one friend and then went to dinner with another. There was a missed call from him. Upon returning his call, I was asked to accompany him in the watching of an HBO program. He called this a “crazy idea”, bringing up the fact that I requested we see each other less often. I politely declined his invitation knowing full-well I could download the episode later.
As soon as I pulled back a li’l, he pounced on me. Of course, a game of cat-and-mouse was not in my intentions. There was an honest need to spend some time with and for myself. I’ve tried to be convinced I’ve been holding my own. Wanting happiness for me means putting my happiness first, right? Apparently not. I put aside some responsibilities here and there to make room in my schedule. I forget about all the activities I enjoy alone. I twiddle my thumbs and ask what is on his mind and I am still too uncomfortable to seriously read, study, eat or do anything else I would be doing if he wasn’t there. Meanwhile, he is fitting me into his life without deleting any part of it.
This late in the evening, the sideways rain has turned to a drizzle and the sky blue has blackened. The whole day was a journey of lessons and realizations addressed to me without the nice sugarcoating to relax the throat for swallowing. I really need to hold up my end of this relationship, any relationship. The only way that can be possible is if I attest to my worth in my day-to-day behavior. When he is judgmental, I will remain unattached. When he is rejecting, I will be dignified and proud of this self I so very much adore. When I have needs or desires, they will be met - with or without his help. When I become insecure and wish to reach out for reassurance, I will direct that energy to something that matters to me, anything that matters to me that isn’t him. And, as much as I hate to admit this, the bedroom activities need to come to a halt. He holds the reigns on if and when we go further - which, when I think about it, doesn’t seem right at all. This idea that my boyfriend should always be “pleased” - goodness! - was foolish. Without giving one word of explanation, this will change. If that means leaving early, staying outta’ bedrooms, and only giving passionate kisses in public, i.e. “safe”, places, so be it.
The heart is coming off the sleeve, sure. But, it will be here for good, with me, available for use.
I had a matter of importance to take up with the professor as soon as class ended, and knowing he had only ten minutes to get to his next class, I felt a huge relief. I couldn’t walk with him. I couldn’t fake a smile for those measly ten minutes. I just couldn’t. The pieces of my smile were cracked and stretched in various directions and I couldn’t remember how it all went together before. My fortune surprises me still, as this boy who has - as my boyfriend refers to it - a “not-so-secret” crush on me waited with me and walked me to the parking lot. I felt devious, but innocently enough. I didn’t plan to be vengeful and I didn’t really do anything not right. A superficial power came of it: I found my smile again.
When I got home, I e-mailed him some cheer then napped off this flu for a few hours. He wrote an e-mail back - which included some concern about my behavior in class. As I hit reply, there was a knock at my door. By the time I got back to the computer, he was messaging me wondering where I was and why I was online but not replying to his e-mail. We chatted for a few minutes and then I had to leave for an appointment. I had to get going and I said goodbye without explanation. I visited with one friend and then went to dinner with another. There was a missed call from him. Upon returning his call, I was asked to accompany him in the watching of an HBO program. He called this a “crazy idea”, bringing up the fact that I requested we see each other less often. I politely declined his invitation knowing full-well I could download the episode later.
As soon as I pulled back a li’l, he pounced on me. Of course, a game of cat-and-mouse was not in my intentions. There was an honest need to spend some time with and for myself. I’ve tried to be convinced I’ve been holding my own. Wanting happiness for me means putting my happiness first, right? Apparently not. I put aside some responsibilities here and there to make room in my schedule. I forget about all the activities I enjoy alone. I twiddle my thumbs and ask what is on his mind and I am still too uncomfortable to seriously read, study, eat or do anything else I would be doing if he wasn’t there. Meanwhile, he is fitting me into his life without deleting any part of it.
This late in the evening, the sideways rain has turned to a drizzle and the sky blue has blackened. The whole day was a journey of lessons and realizations addressed to me without the nice sugarcoating to relax the throat for swallowing. I really need to hold up my end of this relationship, any relationship. The only way that can be possible is if I attest to my worth in my day-to-day behavior. When he is judgmental, I will remain unattached. When he is rejecting, I will be dignified and proud of this self I so very much adore. When I have needs or desires, they will be met - with or without his help. When I become insecure and wish to reach out for reassurance, I will direct that energy to something that matters to me, anything that matters to me that isn’t him. And, as much as I hate to admit this, the bedroom activities need to come to a halt. He holds the reigns on if and when we go further - which, when I think about it, doesn’t seem right at all. This idea that my boyfriend should always be “pleased” - goodness! - was foolish. Without giving one word of explanation, this will change. If that means leaving early, staying outta’ bedrooms, and only giving passionate kisses in public, i.e. “safe”, places, so be it.
The heart is coming off the sleeve, sure. But, it will be here for good, with me, available for use.