Drunken Epiphanies
Things needed to change.
A little while ago, I tried to quit my job.
It didn't stick. I wound up with a transfer. I will soon be living in OKC, and working from the OKC office.
From what everyone's always said, I know I will be throwing myself to the lions by going there. I know the odds that someone like me being able to survive down there, let alone thrive, are small.
Right now I am seeing it as a stepping stone. Marking time to buy time.
I've always been a vocal opponent of running from one's problems, but I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't an element of that in the changes that are about to take place.
The other night, after a disastrous date and too much plum wine, I realized that I am completely terrified of commitment. I realized that, all this time, I've actually been pushing people away. Granted, most of them needed to be pushed away, but the other day I started feeling that irritation I start feeling with men when it starts being Time. In my disjointed, abstract drunken mind I realized that, after a point, I stopped holding men up to the boyfriend standard, which is actually shamefully low, to be honest--and started holding them up to this husband standard I'd formulated in my head.
I started crying in the car with Will. When he asked why, I couldn't articulate the epiphany I'd just had--that my "husband standard" was just a wall I'd erected in order to keep myself from being hurt. It was, in other words, perfection.
I did tell him I was terrified of commitment, though.
I thought it would come as a surprise, after him enduring 4 solid months of my bitching about how James refused to give any indication whatsoever that he'd ever put a ring on it.
I saw the truth on his face before he said it--he'd known.
And he was happy I'd figured it out, because now we can work through it.
Will isn't perfect. James wasn't perfect, Matt wasn't perfect, Andrew wasn't perfect.But I'm not perfect either. I haven't earned the right to want contradictory things from other people.
If I let fear get the better of me again, I might miss out on being with the one person in the last 7 years that I've had a healthy relationship with. Who knows things about me that I tell basically NO ONE. Who's seen me at my most neurotic, most depressed, fattest, and bitchiest. And still wants to live with me, and talk about being with me in a longer-term sense.
It's bothered me that I haven't been overjoyed about all this before. I wanted to get married and have a family, and had more or less given up on it ever happening. Here's a great guy who wants to get married, and probably to me!
I thought I was apathetic, but it turns out I was just scared. Because this wasn't something conditional. I've finally met someone who knows when I try and push him away. He sees this, then sees through it, and then answers it with love.
All the times I thought I was ready to get married before, I was nothing more than a little girl playing pretend in a jewelry store.
I had thought about the dress, the house, the list of domestic chores, children's names and private school when I had thought about my future.
But I'd never, ever, ever imagined repeating those vows. I'd never imagined looking at (guy) and telling him that I would love him forever and ever amen, that I'd forsake all others.
I'd spent years hating girls like that, never realizing that I *was* one.
The realization of all this literally took my breath away. And I could see so clearly the turning point in every relationship. Maybe I wasn't the victim. Maybe they were.
This happened six hours after Will and I signed a lease together. The lead ball that formed in the pit of my stomach after putting my name on the dotted line went away, and hasn't come back since.
It's been three days. I'm cautiously optimistic about my future. Once we get settled in, I want to have a housewarming party for everyone who can be there.
Plum wine will be provided for anyone who might need it.
A little while ago, I tried to quit my job.
It didn't stick. I wound up with a transfer. I will soon be living in OKC, and working from the OKC office.
From what everyone's always said, I know I will be throwing myself to the lions by going there. I know the odds that someone like me being able to survive down there, let alone thrive, are small.
Right now I am seeing it as a stepping stone. Marking time to buy time.
I've always been a vocal opponent of running from one's problems, but I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't an element of that in the changes that are about to take place.
The other night, after a disastrous date and too much plum wine, I realized that I am completely terrified of commitment. I realized that, all this time, I've actually been pushing people away. Granted, most of them needed to be pushed away, but the other day I started feeling that irritation I start feeling with men when it starts being Time. In my disjointed, abstract drunken mind I realized that, after a point, I stopped holding men up to the boyfriend standard, which is actually shamefully low, to be honest--and started holding them up to this husband standard I'd formulated in my head.
I started crying in the car with Will. When he asked why, I couldn't articulate the epiphany I'd just had--that my "husband standard" was just a wall I'd erected in order to keep myself from being hurt. It was, in other words, perfection.
I did tell him I was terrified of commitment, though.
I thought it would come as a surprise, after him enduring 4 solid months of my bitching about how James refused to give any indication whatsoever that he'd ever put a ring on it.
I saw the truth on his face before he said it--he'd known.
And he was happy I'd figured it out, because now we can work through it.
Will isn't perfect. James wasn't perfect, Matt wasn't perfect, Andrew wasn't perfect.But I'm not perfect either. I haven't earned the right to want contradictory things from other people.
If I let fear get the better of me again, I might miss out on being with the one person in the last 7 years that I've had a healthy relationship with. Who knows things about me that I tell basically NO ONE. Who's seen me at my most neurotic, most depressed, fattest, and bitchiest. And still wants to live with me, and talk about being with me in a longer-term sense.
It's bothered me that I haven't been overjoyed about all this before. I wanted to get married and have a family, and had more or less given up on it ever happening. Here's a great guy who wants to get married, and probably to me!
I thought I was apathetic, but it turns out I was just scared. Because this wasn't something conditional. I've finally met someone who knows when I try and push him away. He sees this, then sees through it, and then answers it with love.
All the times I thought I was ready to get married before, I was nothing more than a little girl playing pretend in a jewelry store.
I had thought about the dress, the house, the list of domestic chores, children's names and private school when I had thought about my future.
But I'd never, ever, ever imagined repeating those vows. I'd never imagined looking at (guy) and telling him that I would love him forever and ever amen, that I'd forsake all others.
I'd spent years hating girls like that, never realizing that I *was* one.
The realization of all this literally took my breath away. And I could see so clearly the turning point in every relationship. Maybe I wasn't the victim. Maybe they were.
This happened six hours after Will and I signed a lease together. The lead ball that formed in the pit of my stomach after putting my name on the dotted line went away, and hasn't come back since.
It's been three days. I'm cautiously optimistic about my future. Once we get settled in, I want to have a housewarming party for everyone who can be there.
Plum wine will be provided for anyone who might need it.