The in between

We're very happy together.

It's almost worrisome, how well I'm adjusting to relationship life. Being such good friends first makes it easier and more difficult in some ways. Easier because it feels like I'm making an informed decision about who I'm dating, I don't have to get used to annoying quirks or find out things I may consider deal-breakers down the line. It's helpful, the friends-first thing.

However. The friends-first thing is cumbersome because for a while I seriously didn't think we would ever date, and thus dated (or just good old fashioned kissed) several of his friends. And he met many guys I previously dated. All because I didn't think we were going to become a couple. I thought we didn't have a chance.

But that may be the beauty of it. I didn't think it was possible. And it's not convenient because we're both living in Chicago now. That's what we told ourselves: that it was too convenient to be together. But the thing is, I got to choose him. We all know I have no trouble scrounging up men to date. Good guys, even. I may be a serial dater, but I tend to date good men. So there were good men in the picture, and still, it was: him.

(And don't tell him, but I think creepy nice things about him all the time. Longevity things. Years from now things. I don't believe in marriage as a formula for love, or love as a formula for marriage, but I believe in being with him for some time.)

I'm young. I'm in love. I can't be trusted.

(The thing is,

I'm tired of liking someone enough.)

Saying all the right things

I made the decision. It wasn't easy. I had to trust my instincts, and now I must continue to trust myself. To know that I weighed the options. That I thought it through. That I based my decision on facts, feelings, truth.

I saw The New Guy, perhaps now the Former Guy? My apartment is cold. He graciously offered to let me borrow a spare space heater. I went over to his house. Wasn't sure how to act. Wasn't sure what to say. How close to sit. Because we're officially just friends. Aren't we? It was fine, all well and good, except that there is chemistry. There is still chemistry. It didn't dissipate in four days.

I like him enough to want to see him still, just with all his clothes on. With all my clothes on. Because I'm in a relationship. Because I'm in love. Walking home from his house, heater in hand, all I could think was about the decision I made.

I didn't choose him. He knows that and I know that and we're still going to be friends. We are friends. The truth is, I want to be in love. I'm happy in love. I'm happy. This is the good part. This is the part I'll remember. Not the random dating and having drinks and awkward morning afters (despite the good stories they all make). I want to be in love. I want to wake up pressed against Mr. Right and know, know without a doubt, that it's right. That there's nowhere I'd rather be, no one who understands me better, no one else to love. Only him.

Better left unsaid

There may just be too much between us. Too much history. Too many words. Too much hurt.

One last hurrah

Fine. Fine.

I made my decision. I decided to end it with The New Guy. I can't keep up the "I love you" charade but still be dating someone else. I love someone else. I can't also be casually seeing someone else. I thought we were doing the slow fade. I thought it was working perfectly. Nope.

So we met for drinks. I thought a public place and alcohol would steel me for breaking the news. I thought it would help. It just made it easier to have One Last Hurrah. We were talking, having good conversation, and finally, three drinks in and him wanting to leave (with me in tow), I had to fess up. Tell him the news. I got serious with someone. Someone who isn't you.

And he took it just fine. It was hard to say, because I like The New Guy. I do. It was hard to make the decision to end it. To just go with Love. (Who am I kidding? Love was always the clear winner.) So there I was: a little drunk and validating my decision, and he was listening but not really, too interested in the new boundaries of our relationship. Too interested in both of us being a little drunk and too used to the idea of me following him home. Me waking up in his bed. Me sitting on his couch. Us drinking coffee in the morning. Listening to records in his living room. Me trying to get on his cat's good side (there is no good side for all interested parties.). Too interested in the part where we are no longer what we were.

Love and other drugs

This is me. In a relationship.

In love.

Keep the back burner on low

I woke up next to Mr. Right. We talked about What To Do. He said that I always have someone on the back burner. That he's hesitant. I told him, I know.

(I know this. I know. I date. I'm a dater. I'm a hand-wringing obsessive always someone on the back burner dater. I know how to date. Relationships, though. I get scared. I worry. I panic. I sabotage. I sabotage and ruin it. I stir up trouble. I know my shortcomings. I know I do this. I kiss other men.

I love the back burner. I love the line up. I know the back burner. It's what I do. It's all about knowing my habits, understanding my patterns, creating new habits, new patterns; forging ahead.)

(I will forge ahead.)