loving my flaws

I used to think that lying to people would make them love me.

I used to think that I could have anything I wanted, as long as I really wanted it.

I used to think that love was enough.

It's always more complicated than it looks.

What I find most hard about growing up is accepting that things are not always someone's fault. It's not enough to attribute blame, you have to fix the situation regardless of who is guilty.

I believe that one of our biggest fears, in general, is that people will stop loving us because of our flaws. As soon as they get close enough, they will be afraid and leave.

What I am trying to say is this: I'm not thinking so far ahead anymore. Yes, some people will never get past some of my flaws. Our faults are just not compatible. That is perfectly fine. Painful, but fine. I can't live my life waiting for people to be disappointed.

Because I don't spend my time expecting to be disappointed by others.

Twice bitten, thrice shy

Maybe I could make a check-list to hand out when people hit on me. It would state my political preferences, my favorite book, why I am a vegetarian,and so forth. Like that people would immediately know if there was something so offensive to them that they could politely decline: "Sorry, eating pulses is morally repugnant to me." Of course, I could also quickly peruse their check-list (hmmm, hates puppies...hates watching sports on TV...I'll pass).

This fantasy is completely dumb. Let me rephrase that: it's not dumb when you come out of a long relationship. When you remember saying:"Just got a call from So-and-so" and your boyfriend looks at you with compassion because he knows the deal with So-and-so, and you don't have to explain anything. Maybe my allergy to exposition is why I'm a serial monogamist. It's pure laziness.

"Relationships take a lot of effort." I agree when someone says this to me (usually just before they get married, for some reason) but I would say that meeting people is a lot of effort as well. Trying not to be fake, but also trying to make a good impression. It's all pretty exhausting. Add to that the jittery feeling that you are about to discover something terrifying about your date and the whole thing just does me in. Like that night when my date told me that immigration was a sin. Slowly backing away now...

Every single one of my boyfriends has been someone incredibly different from me. Different temperement, different interests, different backgrounds. So maybe the check-list wouldn't even work, because I like being incompatible with someone. Or maybe the checklist should only be one question:



Picture from the absolutely marvellous xkcd

Playing it casual

"Can I bring a teapot next time I come? I really need tea in the morning."
He laughs at me.
"Why don't we take this slowly? Bring a saucer.I don't want you to think that we're going out or anything. Don't get too involved, Sara."

We joke about it but I am super nervous. I've never played it casual before.

I've always fallen in love before becoming someone's girlfriend.

I've never had a one-night stand. I'm a serial monogamist!

This guy is so relaxed about everything. I tell him what the situation is at the moment, not looking for anything serious, not wanting a "relationship", all that jazz. He just takes it all calmly and tells me to take things one day at a time.

"Just tell me when you feel uncomfortable and we can scale things down."

Which is terrific advice and I know I shouldn't overthink this. Yet...
I'm terrified of getting back into the mess I've just extricated myself from; the passionate love story that ends with someone feeling that I'm too complicated and difficult to deal with. I need some time outfrom all the compromises, and talks that come with coupledom. Where is this going? Am I giving enough? Am I taking enough? No more for some time, please.

I was at his place. He was cooking for me, as we chatted about this and that. I looked up at him shyly, hoping this is the right way of saying it, the right time, the right thing to do.

"Sorry I didn't answer yesterday. I was feeling very depressed and I tend to crawl into a hole."
"Do you get depressed often?"

Deep breath.

"Hmm. I do actually."
"Well, next time I call and you're not feeling so good, why don't you tell me what I can do to help? Maybe talking to someone would make it easier."

And there it is. That moment. The moment when I wonder. Now he's nice about it, but who's to tell when it will irremediably put him off? And anyway, where is this going? Am I casual enough? I don't want a therapist. I want a friend with benefits! Shut up head.

I'm not convinced I'm good at this casual game.