Situational irony

I don't think it's me.

But it probably is.

We know it already. I am one to instigate, to lead on, to make trouble. I kind of hate his new late night working lifestyle, but I can't help but think I'm missing out. Because in the glory days of me living the single life (oh, it was cool, I'm sure no one remembers the crazy rants of days past), I partied a little too hard, I went out on Tuesday nights, I stayed up well past my bedtime. And somehow, somehow, I keep finding myself in the same situations that I previously found my single self in.

That's not coincidence.

Maybe this is why I have a hard time trusting.

Because deep down, I'm not trustworthy.

But I keep thinking I am.

I am.

Am I?

So last month it was that random guy who I sort of know and right before The Boyfriend shows up on the scene, after I've talked him up, this guy tries to kiss me and I'm all like, Dude, whaaat? Like I didn't see it coming.

And then while back home I was in a fight with The Boyfriend and I ran into The Bartender and then I shouldn't have been texting him once he left and I didn't meet up with him and even if I had met him I wouldn't have kissed him, wouldn't have anything him, couldn't have anything him, could only remember how it was good. It was good. But it wasn't The Boyfriend.

And now, now, well, no, last week. Last week. The Roommate. He sort of professed his love? I don't know. I feel like I'm talking myself up here. I'm not trying to. I hang out with The Roommate all of the time. The Boyfriend hangs out with The Roommate all of the time. And last week The Roommate and I were sitting on a stoop at a party and I was trying my damnedest to wingman and said something like, "There are lots of pretty girls here." And he said something like, "But I'm sitting next to the prettiest." And then I was like, "Come onnn." And then it was a long night of me being in denial, and even now, I'm not sure if he remembers trying to kiss me in a cab on the way back to our joint dwelling.

So maybe he was just drunk.

But.

It occurred to me yesterday or so that maybe it's me. Maybe normal people don't have men trying to kiss them this frequently because they're not putting themselves in these situations.

That sounded all wrong.

Compromising position

I'm beginning to worry that the beauty of compromise is becoming me constantly reminding myself that I'm not allowed to feel this or that or the other thing that I always feel.

That's not compromise.

Where is the middle ground?

Did I choose the wrong man?

Separated

I've been working too much.

I have separation anxiety.

I don't like it.

Swimmingly

It's all just going swimmingly.

I'm working a ton. I'm distracting myself.

I'm not making this relationship my entire life.

(It's good.)

Hold the nuts

I'm beginning to fear that I only have something to say when I'm feeling completely nuts.

So. Not nuts tonight.

Not nuts at all.

It's wonderful. He's wonderful. My first few days back home in Chicago, I kept waking up from dreams in which I was only here visiting. I would wake up and pull him in close close closer, I was so scared my dream world would turn into reality.

Lovesick

I mean. I'm not sure I couldn't love him.

(The Boyfriend, that is.)

Toeing the line

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't have done anything.

I was...toeing the line. Why?

Doubt. Nostalgia. Thinking about my life had I stayed.

Testing the waters. Toeing the line. Knowing my life wouldn't be better had I stayed, The Bartender and I wouldn't have worked in the long run, he annoys me mostly, his addictions always would have come before me, we would explode. But. It was never about the words we said to each other. The space between us was the part that I couldn't shake. Being near him felt like enough.

It was never about words, especially because the last words we didn't say to each other were I love you.

Forgotten

I ran into The Bartender. Not on his turf. On mine. If you can still call that place mine.

I was out with friends, laughing too much, and The Bartender walked in. There he was.

It didn't help that The Boyfriend and I were in a fight. And that I was taking Sunday Funday very seriously.

Reasons.

I sidled up next to him at the bar. I pretended like it wasn't A Big Deal. I couldn't get situated. He gently pulled my chair a fraction closer to him.

And what did I think? That I could just pick up where I left off? That ten months and me falling really, really into love with one of his friends didn't matter? That me being back, only for a visit, it didn't matter?

Nothing happened. Don't worry. I just forgot.

Forgot what?