Baby Steps

I think I really am going to try being single.  For reals. 

it’s probably going to suck, but perhaps- just perhaps- it may be awesome and enlightening and I will get to know me better.  It’s been awhile since I’ve done the whole single thing for real.

And besides the whole Craig being weird thing, there are some other things that the Universe I think is using to try and tell me to stop doing the whole dating thing.

#1
I am super sick.  Out of nowhere yesterday, I just started feeling like I’d been beaten up and my head hurt.  Then all last night I had a high fever and this morning I had to take a pile of drugs in order to go to work.  In fact, such a pile that I had to be driven to work as I didn’t trust myself to drive.
(I think I’ve mentioned before that ephedrine is magic 😉 )
Sick on Vday??? How strange!  Also, I doubt I’ll be feeling better enough to go on a stupid date with Craig tomorrow night.

#2
Stupid Craig texted me this morning bitching about feeling “under the weather” and that he called off work.  I feel like a bitch, but I have little sympathy considering I was up all night with a fever of 102 and still dragged my butt to work today.  Granted, that’s mostly because I need the money and there are other people in my department that took today off, so I would get a mark on my record for not coming in (and possibly fired).  But I really don’t want to play the whole nursing/sympathy thing with Craig feeling ill.  I suck at it and I know it’s selfish, but I hate doing it.  I really have to care about someone before I’ll play nurses aid to their ailments.  It’s not that I’m actively trying to be a bitch, I just hate illness and I was never “taken care of” as a child when I was sick, so I have absolutely no clue how to go about doing that whole thing.  The most I’ve ever done is brought Texas and Germany meds or special food/drink.  I think I made soup for Army once.  But I don’t do much in that whole department.  Not my thing.  Sorry Craig- barking up the wrong tree.

#3
My coworker that I’m starting to become good friends with- ahem I should take a leaf out of Weegee’s book and actually give her a blog-name- let’s go with…Hannah.  Not sure why.  Not even close to her real name.  I just like that name.   Anyway, Hannah reminds me of Germany a lot.  She’s really smart, doesn’t take shit, hilarious, and has a healthy interest in men and booze.  However, she’s had the same sort of crummy luck that I have with men lately.  We’ve been comparing notes for weeks and laughing about our similar disappointments.  Today she asked if I would want to go get drinks tonight to celebrate being unattached, single, and fantabuloso.  I told her I most certainly would like to.  She said she’d text me when she gets off her evening job, which should be at about 8.  I’m sort of proud of myself for being excited about it.

#4
Zoe.  I don’t really need to go into this much, I’m sure.  Ya’ll know how much I adore my lil’ puppy kid.  She is my world and I love her.  It said a lot that she didn’t like Craig.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to pursue a relationship with a person my dog dislikes.  Simple as that.

So, baby steps.  I can do this.  I think as long as I remain semi-social, I can manage being single.

-crosses fingers-

Relationship Are Dumb

In light of this stupid V-day thing, I’ve been pondering relationships way too much.

I’m come to this conclusion: relationships are dumb.

I got into this whole discussion with Mama over at Mental Midwest (that was probably waaaay more drawn out that she needed to hear 😉 ) about relationships, men, and FWB.

And it’s got me thinking.

Craig is driving me nuts.

But I don’t think it’s entirely Craig’s fault (besides the creepy baby discussion).  I think I just don’t really get how to handle a relationship that demands a shit-ton of my time, attention, and possibly emotions.  I’m just not really that interested.

I thought that’s what I wanted.  I thought I wanted the deep, schmoozey, can’t-stop-thinking-about-them, meant-to-be kind of relationship. 
But I think that’s only because that’s the relationship Katherine and I had.  However, that also had aspects of abuse to it as well, so I definitely should not be holding it as some sort of standard.

I miss Army a lot.  And I’m so angry and resentful towards myself for these feelings.  I made myself examine why I got fed up with Army.  His flakiness.  Then I made myself examine whether I’m grumpier about Craig’s neediness, or Army’s flakiness.

And the results are surprising and a bit displeasing.

I’m coming to like living alone more and more.  I like being able to make spontaneous plans with friends only a day or two in advance.  I like being able to spend so much time with Zoe.  I like being able to only have to worry about my own finances.

I hate how Craig keeps pushing for me to come over to his place.  I hate how he planned this V-day thing on Friday over a week in advance.  I hate that he constantly wants to do something.  I hate that he can’t hold a conversation unless it involves computers, babies, his family, or his exes.

I miss that Army could/can always make me laugh.  He can always cheer me up.  He can always make me feel pretty. I loved that he likes the same sort of movies that I do.  I love that we like the same kind of food.  I love that we can talk about my job, his job, current events, mutual dumb shit we’ve heard and actually have a two-way conversation.

Goddammit I miss Army.

And the worse part is I know I could step right back into a “relationship” with him. 

We texted for two hours last night.  Just in a friendly sort of way.  He’s always been a good friend before the whole sex thing.  But sex did get brought up, like it does with him, and he sweetly said something about how I was the best and he missed it with me and he liked how it was always without awkwardness or extreme expectations.

I winced at hearing that because all it did was make me crave that sex again.

Ugh.

Relationships are dumb.

I think what I’m going to do is go to this thing on Friday with Craig, and if there aren’t amazing turnaround fireworks or something, I’m just going to let him down as nicely as I can (god I hate being that girl) and then re-evaluate me, myself, and I.  And my life.

And not immediately jump Army’s bones.

No.  I will wait.

Not immediately.

But perhaps…

Dammit.  I need to learn that self-control thing.

Treat sex like I do food.  Don’t want to get fat.

Patience.

Splintered

I am splintered.  Really struggling with the whole unity and “I”.  Feeling only like a “we” the past couple days.

And we are not agreeable or allies in any way.
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I’m not sure what made me decide to confide in him over text about being fat and ugly and needing pills and laxatives.  I’ve never spoken to anyone about it before.  I did take some pills and washed them down with a couple shots of liquor.  It makes it easier to not think about food.  I don’t need food.  Food makes me fat.

Then he texted us.  And sent everyone into a tailspin.  Charlotte is squirming in that nasty way she does.  He asks if I’m all right.  If I’m coping with all my new stress.  He says he misses me.  He asks about the new guy.  I don’t want to talk about Craig.  He says he’s worried about me.  He wonders if I’m handling living alone all right.

And I tell him.

I tell him I’m so fat and I have to take the laxatives on the weekend because otherwise I can’t go to work.  That during the week it’s hard and I struggle so bad to be a good girl.  That the other ladies at work always look so chic.  And they notice when I lose weight.  They notice every single pound.  And they are so happy for me.  So very happy.  They praise.  They congratulate.  They sing and shout and smile.  Their white teeth take up their whole face like fence posts in front of a perfect house.  A house a lady would have.

He cuts off my rantings and calms me down.  His encouragement and praise for my body being the way it is skitters into my brain and wraps around me like a blanket.  He dismisses the thoughts of blubber, of fat, of sludge.  I tell him it’s been weeks since he’s seen my anyway.

He says it doesn’t matter.  He doesn’t like me being so cruel to myself.  He says he cares.

How can he care?  He just leaves and dismisses me.  He doesn’t care at all.

He never cared when Audrey was hurting from the mess he made.
(he never thought the pregnancy was a two-person effort)

Why am I the one who feels pain at his words?  I don’t care what boys think.  What is wrong with me?
Charlotte’s affecting me too much.

More pills.

-Victoria

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I’m not exactly sure who told Craig our address.  My best guess is Charlotte or Kit.  It’s hard to know.  All I know is this boy stands in my living room, offering gifts of chocolate, ice cream, diet coke (Kit’s weakness) to try and make our back pain better.

But I barely know him.  I certainly don’t know him well enough to chose to let him into our residence.  But someone thinks he’s safe.  I think about enlisting Rika to help me boot him out.

It’s Charlotte that surfaces instead.  She entices him into the bedroom, saying they’ll watch a movie.  I wrestle control enough to stiffly watch a movie with him.  The damn muscle relaxers are messing me up badly.  Me, who can handle most pills like a trooper.  It is my talent, after all.

The rest of the evening slips past me.  I doze at one point.

The body dozes.

The boy doesn’t leave.

It’s me who wakes up in the cold light of morning and feels the pressure of an arm slung over my waist.  Rika fights her way forward but is caught by something.  By someone.

And suddenly I am gone.

-Midori

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no one knows self-sabotage like i do.  the boy moves closer, muttering something about mornings and food.  i remain perfectly still.  i am a statue.  i am always a statue when they want me to be.

but he wants to get up and go get food.  i stare at him.  he remarks that i can’t go to a restaurant in pajamas.  i look down and notice that i am fully clothed in a t-shirt and the loose pants that say coca-cola in red.  i glance back up at the boy.  he is fully clothed in jeans and a black t-shirt.  he tilts his head slightly and says something.  then he smiles in a sickeningly honest way.

i run

-daria
__________________________________________________

I could eat.  I change clothes in the bathroom and accompany him to Bob Evans.  Breakfast sounds the best.

I am a little disappointed over the lack of activity last night, but he seems to be the type who isn’t into a quick roll in the sack anyway.

In my disappointment, my thoughts easily drift to Army as he natters on about his antics with friends back during his school days.  I wonder how much Victoria’s craziness scared Army.  It doesn’t seem like much, considering he last texts are about how he’ll always listen to us if we need it and all he wants to do is help.  I idly wonder what sort of help I might be able to get that offer to extend to….

I snap to attention when Craig mentions children and stare at him.  He speaks again, talking about how he-wants-a-family-and-he-has-name-ideas-and-he-thought-his-ex’s-baby-might-have-been-his-but-the-timing-wasn’t-right-and-that’s-probably-a-good-thing-anyway-because-he’s-done-with-her-and-a-child-should-be-with-someone-he’s-attracted-to-and-cares-about…

His eyes focus.  I blink.  And frown.

No fucking way.

I fucked that shit up before.  I am not gonna be the one to crack open that jar this time.  Not to mention that the last time was a complete accident.  This guy sounds like he’d hide our birth control pills.

Fucking hell.

-Charlotte
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Sucess and the Art of Ignoring

After that whole fretting thing in my last post I thought I should inform you all that the date went very well.

So well, in fact, that we actually went out again on Sunday.  And he actually went to museum with me- I’ve never dated anyone willing to do that.  He even seemed to enjoy it.  How strange.

We saw “Warm Bodies” (which was FANTASTIC) and had a couple of lovely dinners (on two separate days, obviously).  He seems really awesome and sweet and funny and a little bit awkward, but that works out because I’m a little bit awkward myself.

I’m trying to not let this stuff get away from me.  That is always a bad idea.  But I seem to have nicely accomplished that so far.  I’m letting myself have that nicely warm feeling but not dwelling or daydreaming like I (*ahem* Claire mostly) usually do.

There is a bit of recoil, like usual when it comes to a new relationship but I think I’m doing a great job ignoring it.  For the most part.  Victoria is livid over us eating a healthy dinner two days in a row so she’s fighting hard on the restricting front, but I’m too warm-feeling to even care.  In fact, I’m even going to a friend’s house tonight for dinner.  I think I’m actually winning against Victoria for once.  That’s never happened.

Apparently there’s something magical about the dating game…

______________________________________________

I suppose I need to come up with some alias since I’ll be taking about him for at least another week (we plan to get together again this weekend).

Let’s go with……

Craig.