I have known this man for a month now. It started with a perfect story of his dramatic chase after me and it culminated with his splendid success – I allowed him into my bed. Then the classic story of the change of roles took place. Each time I had a drama of him not being there, he came back with an even bigger entrance. Even now, in this very moment, when I am pondering on what to do and not about him, being full of doubt and sending lots of farewells to him in my head, he messages me. Yet another step in of his and I laugh out loud. This is ridiculous! What is more ridiculous, however? Is it the way I react and the pictures I create in my head or is it the general irony of life that never stops and you just need to go with it? Probably both.
Going back to the man. I hate when he is not in touch. I hate it when I need to initiate the contact and he is not doing well at maintaining the conversation. I detest it when he is all there when it suits him. I get frustrated when he IS there and I want to stupidly punish him for all the moments of silence and self-help articles I browsed through because of him to keep my cool. I am cold and distant when I’m with him and when I don’t see him anymore, I fear it is all over because I haven’t really been myself. However, most of the time I am just understanding, too understanding and it makes me wonder: when does the story finishes being about him or about me and it begins to be about us?
Two of my dear friends, having experienced a variety of male caused ups and downs, have been telling me for days now that I should take care of the situation by being upfront and demand an honest answer to a very easy question, ‘where is it all going?’ The problem is, I cannot ask this question. I am afraid and I am not ready yet. They call it excuses and refuse to watch me being hurt. However, ‘I am the only person hurting myself!’ They say ‘excuses’ again. I know I need to ask. Still, I am not sure myself what I truly desire. I want my freedom; my time on my own; my time for music and all the things I love doing; time for my friends and everything else. ALl I want from him is to give me this reassurance that there isn’t any other woman in the picture for him and I want him to know that I desire him to be there for me and be willing to manifest it, even by voluntarily sending the shortest message the world has ever seen. Is the satisfaction of that need called a relationship? Is the partner in crime called my boyfriend. Is it? Really? Does it really have to be discussed? And the excuses enter the stage again.
I am leaving London for Christmas in over a week. I am not going to see him for almost 3 weeks (if we are still in touch by then). This is something new for me and I am wondering whether I should just clear the air (and probably scare him off) or wait and spend this time on working on myself, as there clearly is a massive space within me that needs a serious workout (I cannot be so easily put out of control and deprived of power, there is the merciless music industry waiting for me and it is going to eat me alive before I even enter its door if I continue being so unbalanced). Do I wait or what? For fuck’s sake!