Check out what I found...
On the train on the way home from the Second City Etc. event back in December (right after Matt kissed me), I wrote a really long LJ entry that I never posted...
I just found it, and reading through it... Here...I'm gonna post it...read it if you want to...or don't, it doesn't really matter at this point, but I figured I'd put it out there....
"Love"
Time to pour my heart out!!!
It’s time for me to be honest with myself and with everyone. I’m not sure if I’m happy with Matt. He’s a wonderful guy and one of my best friends, but every time I think about him now I want to cry. I am so so so afraid of being in a relationship with him. I constantly wish that I hadn’t even kissed him. I wish he’d never asked me to go to the symphony with his family. I wish I hadn’t sat next to him on the couch that night.
At this point I’m sitting on the train and I’m dreading getting back. I want to be somewhere with one of my good friends where I can cry and rant. I was absolutely terrified of kissing him the first time (as some of you know.) Now, the idea of seeing him again and him possibly kissing me again is giving me heartburn.
I don’t want this. It’s not fair to him for me to pretend to be the perfect girlfriend and it’s not fair for me to nearly burst into tears every time I think about him.
I’m scared of letting him into me. (infer what every you want from that…both interpretations are true.) I’m scared of how this will end up. Actually, everything about the idea of a relationship scares me. I’m afraid of him breaking up with me. I’m afraid of breaking up with him. I’m afraid of it lasting forever. I’m afraid of it going on too long even though we’ve both just stopped caring and neither of us wants to break it off because we don’t want to hurt one another (like Steve and Lisa). I’m afraid that I made a truly poor decision by dating someone who is not only in the same major as me but to whom I made a pact with to get into the movie business together. I’m afraid of getting past level 2 on the snogging scale.
I know these aren’t the sorts of thing I should be thinking about right now, seeing as how it JUST started, but, gosh, I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s a reason I ‘friend zone’ every guy I meet. I don’t want anyone to be my boyfriend. Not to mention, of course, the fact that I’ve never been ‘girlfriend material’. I’ve always been the little sister/daughter figure/one-of-the-guys-in-a-girly-sort-of-way. ALWAYS.
I had these thoughts a day or two before I left for Chicago, before it was official. Then, after he kissed me I was on a high for a while. But, when I was on the phone with him while sitting, waiting for the SCetc thing, he did something I wasn’t expecting. He dropped the L bomb on me. Leah was there, she can attest to the fact that I had a major freak out. My mother didn’t help. I called her, nearly in tears and she said ‘oh cool! Aw…this is so exciting!’ I didn’t mention it yet, but after he hit me with that, I responded with ‘I love you too,’ because, well, I saw that episode of Seinfeld and I didn’t want to break his heart then and there by not saying it back. I feel horrible now, though, because I don’t think I meant it.
This leads me to the discussion of the L word. What does it mean really? I say it all the time. ALL the time. If you mention anyone who I’m friends with, or a musician/writer/actor/director who I even slightly admire and I will bust out the L word and use it over and over again. I say it every time I talk to my mom, Sarah or a relative on the phone. I sign a good portion of my e-mails with it. Why is it so hard for me to say it with feeling to my boyfriend? Is it because I’m afraid that this time it’s supposed to mean something and that it won’t? One of things my mom said on the phone when I called her about Matt saying it to me was ‘Well, that’s more than I get out of your father.” He loves her. I know that. I’ve always known it because it’s always just been a fact. He loves me and my brother too. He’s not big on showing it in traditional ways, though. He won’t say it and he doesn’t show affection physically. I only occasionally see him kiss my mom and the only time I remember him hugging me without my mom forcing him to was the day they left me in Carbondale. My mom is big on physical affection and telling people she loves them. She’s always hugging me. Actually, I hug her a lot more than she hugs me, but I can tell the love’s there because I feel so comfortable hugging her. Or maybe that’s just the mother-daughter bond. My dad shows his affection in other ways. For a year he left CDs on my dresser before he got a chance to listen to them. I know he looks forward to my birthdays, when he can give me all of the used Dylan CD’s and second edition Kerouac books he can find. I think I got the best of both of them in that respect. If I really care about someone I’ll cuddle with them and/or make them mix CDs (depending, of course, on who it is.)
But anyway…what does Love mean? As a society we say the word all of the time, so often that it seems to lose its meaning. I love ice cream and the New Pornographers and Paul Burch and my roommate, but not my boyfriend? WTF is wrong with that picture? Is it possible that I don’t really love any of those things and I just say it because it’s what I think I should say? I told Matt I loved him because it seemed like the right response. I’m always conscious about saying the right thing and I really didn’t want to screw this thing up, because it’s a good thing.
It is a good thing, right? Right?
Oh gosh, I have no fucking clue what to do.
I just found it, and reading through it... Here...I'm gonna post it...read it if you want to...or don't, it doesn't really matter at this point, but I figured I'd put it out there....
"Love"
Time to pour my heart out!!!
It’s time for me to be honest with myself and with everyone. I’m not sure if I’m happy with Matt. He’s a wonderful guy and one of my best friends, but every time I think about him now I want to cry. I am so so so afraid of being in a relationship with him. I constantly wish that I hadn’t even kissed him. I wish he’d never asked me to go to the symphony with his family. I wish I hadn’t sat next to him on the couch that night.
At this point I’m sitting on the train and I’m dreading getting back. I want to be somewhere with one of my good friends where I can cry and rant. I was absolutely terrified of kissing him the first time (as some of you know.) Now, the idea of seeing him again and him possibly kissing me again is giving me heartburn.
I don’t want this. It’s not fair to him for me to pretend to be the perfect girlfriend and it’s not fair for me to nearly burst into tears every time I think about him.
I’m scared of letting him into me. (infer what every you want from that…both interpretations are true.) I’m scared of how this will end up. Actually, everything about the idea of a relationship scares me. I’m afraid of him breaking up with me. I’m afraid of breaking up with him. I’m afraid of it lasting forever. I’m afraid of it going on too long even though we’ve both just stopped caring and neither of us wants to break it off because we don’t want to hurt one another (like Steve and Lisa). I’m afraid that I made a truly poor decision by dating someone who is not only in the same major as me but to whom I made a pact with to get into the movie business together. I’m afraid of getting past level 2 on the snogging scale.
I know these aren’t the sorts of thing I should be thinking about right now, seeing as how it JUST started, but, gosh, I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s a reason I ‘friend zone’ every guy I meet. I don’t want anyone to be my boyfriend. Not to mention, of course, the fact that I’ve never been ‘girlfriend material’. I’ve always been the little sister/daughter figure/one-of-the-guys-in-a-girly-sort-of-way. ALWAYS.
I had these thoughts a day or two before I left for Chicago, before it was official. Then, after he kissed me I was on a high for a while. But, when I was on the phone with him while sitting, waiting for the SCetc thing, he did something I wasn’t expecting. He dropped the L bomb on me. Leah was there, she can attest to the fact that I had a major freak out. My mother didn’t help. I called her, nearly in tears and she said ‘oh cool! Aw…this is so exciting!’ I didn’t mention it yet, but after he hit me with that, I responded with ‘I love you too,’ because, well, I saw that episode of Seinfeld and I didn’t want to break his heart then and there by not saying it back. I feel horrible now, though, because I don’t think I meant it.
This leads me to the discussion of the L word. What does it mean really? I say it all the time. ALL the time. If you mention anyone who I’m friends with, or a musician/writer/actor/director who I even slightly admire and I will bust out the L word and use it over and over again. I say it every time I talk to my mom, Sarah or a relative on the phone. I sign a good portion of my e-mails with it. Why is it so hard for me to say it with feeling to my boyfriend? Is it because I’m afraid that this time it’s supposed to mean something and that it won’t? One of things my mom said on the phone when I called her about Matt saying it to me was ‘Well, that’s more than I get out of your father.” He loves her. I know that. I’ve always known it because it’s always just been a fact. He loves me and my brother too. He’s not big on showing it in traditional ways, though. He won’t say it and he doesn’t show affection physically. I only occasionally see him kiss my mom and the only time I remember him hugging me without my mom forcing him to was the day they left me in Carbondale. My mom is big on physical affection and telling people she loves them. She’s always hugging me. Actually, I hug her a lot more than she hugs me, but I can tell the love’s there because I feel so comfortable hugging her. Or maybe that’s just the mother-daughter bond. My dad shows his affection in other ways. For a year he left CDs on my dresser before he got a chance to listen to them. I know he looks forward to my birthdays, when he can give me all of the used Dylan CD’s and second edition Kerouac books he can find. I think I got the best of both of them in that respect. If I really care about someone I’ll cuddle with them and/or make them mix CDs (depending, of course, on who it is.)
But anyway…what does Love mean? As a society we say the word all of the time, so often that it seems to lose its meaning. I love ice cream and the New Pornographers and Paul Burch and my roommate, but not my boyfriend? WTF is wrong with that picture? Is it possible that I don’t really love any of those things and I just say it because it’s what I think I should say? I told Matt I loved him because it seemed like the right response. I’m always conscious about saying the right thing and I really didn’t want to screw this thing up, because it’s a good thing.
It is a good thing, right? Right?
Oh gosh, I have no fucking clue what to do.