(I wrote a different, better version of this journal yesterday, which, of course, meant my computer crashed before I could post it)
Time to face the cold, hard truth.
I want to get back together with Peter. And I really don't. And I feel so passionately both ways that it overwhelms me at times. It's a classic case of heart vs. head. And somedays the heart wins out, mostly because being with him still seems like the only thing I really know sometimes. Not that my feelings matter too much in the reality of things, either way, since I was the breakee, the ball's kinda in his court.
We still see each other every 1-2 weeks or so (and talk occasionally through IM and e-mail). And 90% of the time we get together, sex is involved. Which I am down with. For the most part, I appreciate a booty call as much as the next guy. And the sex is still SO awesome. I mean, seriously, damn. But there's so much more. He still knows me better than anyone else in my world, and knows (for the most part) just what to say. We connect on this beautifully geeky level. He sends me articles and websites that make him think of me. And, damn, it still feels so good to be in his arms.
It feels good for me that we have maintained our friendship (or, um, whatever it is :surreal
for a variety of reasons. Sex, of course. Also, I feel that if we had severed all contact, I'd be demonizing him and our relationship, which I don't think is a useful or healthy pursuit. Because I see him, I am reminded of all those things (see above) that made me love him. And I can still look back at all our memories with, for the most part, joy.
On the other hand, all those fucking annoying things about him are so much clearer, and when they get to be too much, I can just come home. Like his tendencies toward selfishness, his almost total refusal to compromise, and how he's great at complaining about shit, but is far less likely to get off his ass and do something about it.
And, for the most part, we still have this amazing communication. We even agreed that we both feel there's a foreseeable chance in the (semi-distant) future where we get back together. We figured the odds were about 1 in 10. Are we total freaks that we act like this?
Not to say I spend all of my time thinking about that relationship. With the exception of work (which is bad for my back and will to live), and a current, consistent lack of sleep, I am very happy with my life right now. I love my house and my housemates. While school is a stressor, for the most part it's very interesting, and I feel a significant decrease in stress over the future now that I'm on a new career path. I'm getting in shape, working out, and feeling really confident about the direction that is going. People I know are making a lot of positive comments about it.
I've rediscovered the joys of jogging on a treadmill, and today, for the first time probably ever, I even felt like jogging more than my regulated time. I'm being more social (on the weekends) than I've probably been since high school. I'm going out with friends and to clubs at least once a weekend (with a fair degree of consistency), and having a blast. There are usually hot women involved, which always makes me . I still get moody a fair amount lately, but I just need to keep reminding myself that, really, my life is good.
P.S. It takes a real talent to kick yourself in the teeth, but I am apparently always up for the challenge. Inspired by the reflexive nature of this journal, I decided to read over my old paper journal, which I mostly haven't touched since high school, and had made a conscious decision not to look at more recently, know full well the last year of entries are all about Peter. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided that I did want to look at it, having realized the entries are mostly probably puppy-dog high school shit. So I was totally prepared for everything I wrote in there. What I was not prepared for was a letter from Peter, stuck in there for safe keeping. One of the handful of unsolicited letters he ever wrote me, written during the summer of 2000, after we'd been together almost 2 years. The letter was so beautifully honest and unabashedly Peter, and ended with a terribly touching dream he had had about our future. And that was it, right there. I am devastated that we never really had the chance to be grown-ups together. I think we would have been good at that. Or something.
Time to face the cold, hard truth.
I want to get back together with Peter. And I really don't. And I feel so passionately both ways that it overwhelms me at times. It's a classic case of heart vs. head. And somedays the heart wins out, mostly because being with him still seems like the only thing I really know sometimes. Not that my feelings matter too much in the reality of things, either way, since I was the breakee, the ball's kinda in his court.
We still see each other every 1-2 weeks or so (and talk occasionally through IM and e-mail). And 90% of the time we get together, sex is involved. Which I am down with. For the most part, I appreciate a booty call as much as the next guy. And the sex is still SO awesome. I mean, seriously, damn. But there's so much more. He still knows me better than anyone else in my world, and knows (for the most part) just what to say. We connect on this beautifully geeky level. He sends me articles and websites that make him think of me. And, damn, it still feels so good to be in his arms.
It feels good for me that we have maintained our friendship (or, um, whatever it is :surreal
for a variety of reasons. Sex, of course. Also, I feel that if we had severed all contact, I'd be demonizing him and our relationship, which I don't think is a useful or healthy pursuit. Because I see him, I am reminded of all those things (see above) that made me love him. And I can still look back at all our memories with, for the most part, joy.
On the other hand, all those fucking annoying things about him are so much clearer, and when they get to be too much, I can just come home. Like his tendencies toward selfishness, his almost total refusal to compromise, and how he's great at complaining about shit, but is far less likely to get off his ass and do something about it.
And, for the most part, we still have this amazing communication. We even agreed that we both feel there's a foreseeable chance in the (semi-distant) future where we get back together. We figured the odds were about 1 in 10. Are we total freaks that we act like this?
Not to say I spend all of my time thinking about that relationship. With the exception of work (which is bad for my back and will to live), and a current, consistent lack of sleep, I am very happy with my life right now. I love my house and my housemates. While school is a stressor, for the most part it's very interesting, and I feel a significant decrease in stress over the future now that I'm on a new career path. I'm getting in shape, working out, and feeling really confident about the direction that is going. People I know are making a lot of positive comments about it.
I've rediscovered the joys of jogging on a treadmill, and today, for the first time probably ever, I even felt like jogging more than my regulated time. I'm being more social (on the weekends) than I've probably been since high school. I'm going out with friends and to clubs at least once a weekend (with a fair degree of consistency), and having a blast. There are usually hot women involved, which always makes me . I still get moody a fair amount lately, but I just need to keep reminding myself that, really, my life is good.
P.S. It takes a real talent to kick yourself in the teeth, but I am apparently always up for the challenge. Inspired by the reflexive nature of this journal, I decided to read over my old paper journal, which I mostly haven't touched since high school, and had made a conscious decision not to look at more recently, know full well the last year of entries are all about Peter. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided that I did want to look at it, having realized the entries are mostly probably puppy-dog high school shit. So I was totally prepared for everything I wrote in there. What I was not prepared for was a letter from Peter, stuck in there for safe keeping. One of the handful of unsolicited letters he ever wrote me, written during the summer of 2000, after we'd been together almost 2 years. The letter was so beautifully honest and unabashedly Peter, and ended with a terribly touching dream he had had about our future. And that was it, right there. I am devastated that we never really had the chance to be grown-ups together. I think we would have been good at that. Or something.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
sluttygoodgirl:
I can relate to so much of what you wrote here....
datsun:
thanks for the good thoughts! (I'm sorry that I didn't read this journal entry. I'm hopped up on pain pills, and...)