(no subject)
Dating is always hard and complicated and nerve-wracking, and whatever else dating is, but I am already highly neurotic, making this an extremely dangerous process for me. Now I don't really feel as if my neurosis (on this front) is my fault. Many choice gentlemen come to mind when I try to catalogue the hall of shame. There was "I'll be right back," which, as everyone knows, in a horror movie, is always a sign that someone will be killed; as it turns out, in this situation, it was a sign that the man in question would pack up his car and leave the state. There's Steve, though someone I never dated, who has cemented my belief that everyone is lying to me. There's CQ, who has destroyed my ability to read signals and trust how it seems when you're together. There's the invisible kind, a category to which one might assign CQ as well, along wiht assorted other assholes. The most devastating for me is the fact that I have no faith in any one. I wait for them to do it. I wait for them to disappoint me, and then I can relax, because I feel more comfortable. And despite reassurances of the most important kind, the kind that you get when someone looks at you the right way, I still cannot trust it. When I'm with the person, it's completely different.
So yesterday I was telling DR about K's latest friendly cut: "At Thanksgiving, you'll be the Bridget Jones of the group," which to me sounds like a you're obnxious and single slam. While he professes to love to harass his friend, it only strikes fear into my heart that I am in fact that irritating woman. DR suggested I "hammer his testicles," which seemed like a good idea. In the end, I only casually mentioned that I had just gotten home from the night before, and he was like, oh, did you make a booty call after Thanksgiving dinner? Now, I'm confused. Why is that if I spent the night with someone, it would have ot be a "booty call"? The other night, M asked me why I liked him at all, and I'm starting to think maybe I don't. Yet the point is clear. I haven't dated anyone who wasn't just trying to have sex with me in about 2 years now. I don't even remember how to date. The point of that cheerful anecdote about K is that he's not the only one whose testicles should be hammered.
Everyone always says that the begining of a relationship is supposed to be the best, and there's certainly ways in which that is true, but in this case, I feel as if the uncertainty and excitement only makes me feel worse. I just need a little more time to feel secure I guess, which is really in his hands. He has repeatedly told em that he is an overanalyzer himself, so I'm hoping things are okay. I mean, I know they are, for now. It might help if one page of my writing wasn't a total piece of shit. I just really want things to be okay for awhile. I think they're going to be okay. BUt that's the kind of thinking that always gets you in trouble.
So yesterday I was telling DR about K's latest friendly cut: "At Thanksgiving, you'll be the Bridget Jones of the group," which to me sounds like a you're obnxious and single slam. While he professes to love to harass his friend, it only strikes fear into my heart that I am in fact that irritating woman. DR suggested I "hammer his testicles," which seemed like a good idea. In the end, I only casually mentioned that I had just gotten home from the night before, and he was like, oh, did you make a booty call after Thanksgiving dinner? Now, I'm confused. Why is that if I spent the night with someone, it would have ot be a "booty call"? The other night, M asked me why I liked him at all, and I'm starting to think maybe I don't. Yet the point is clear. I haven't dated anyone who wasn't just trying to have sex with me in about 2 years now. I don't even remember how to date. The point of that cheerful anecdote about K is that he's not the only one whose testicles should be hammered.
Everyone always says that the begining of a relationship is supposed to be the best, and there's certainly ways in which that is true, but in this case, I feel as if the uncertainty and excitement only makes me feel worse. I just need a little more time to feel secure I guess, which is really in his hands. He has repeatedly told em that he is an overanalyzer himself, so I'm hoping things are okay. I mean, I know they are, for now. It might help if one page of my writing wasn't a total piece of shit. I just really want things to be okay for awhile. I think they're going to be okay. BUt that's the kind of thinking that always gets you in trouble.