The Aftermath

I did not finish the story of Mike sooner because after he left, my dog knocked my beverage onto the computer, frying the keyboard. So now I may have to spend over a thousand dollars to buy a new computer. I am now using my crappy old Dell, which abruptly ends programs and also cannot be moved at all or the power cord will fall out and the battery no longer has the ability to charge.

But Mike...

I did not make a move. Nor did I have the Adult Conversation. I chickened out. And I know now that I clearly need therapy. I mean, here is this perfectly nice guy. And his politics are great. (My friend Jerry jokes with me that the first thing I say about any guy is what I think of his politics. That is very important to me. I can't help it.) And I think he's cute. And I feel an electricity when I am with him--something I did not feel with P., or with just about any other guy in the past year or so.

I know that what I'm feeling for Mike is special, and yet I minimalize it to everyone, including myself. I make up a stupid excuse not to take a next step. That is what the "Waiting" post was--a stupid excuse. Rose even said so. As soon as I had gotten the words out about that bit of logic, she told me that before I spend money buying a new couch (I currently have one with a hideous print, one broken leg, and one arm torn apart that I inherited from the Grandmonster), I must spend money on the therapy I need to stop being crazy.

I'm afraid to start something because it will end one day? Why the hell be born then? We will all die one day. Everything ends. And yet--and yet that is really the crux of things with me, isn't it? Endings. I've now become so afraid of endings--at least with guys--that I will not permit myself to even start something. How pathetic is that?

After Mike left and I was left alone with my thoughts, I even began to compose an email, wherein I would give the little Adult speech I had worked out. It went something like, "I've been noticing this vibe between us lately, and I think you've noticed it too. Maybe I'm way off here, but if there is something between us, I'd like to give it a try. What do you think?" However, halfway through composing the email was when the dog broke my computer.

I sort of took that as a sign that it was better to not send that email anyhow. But now I am left to ponder what to do next. And then there is always the doubt. Perhaps I've been wrong all these years. Perhaps Mike really doesn't like me romantically after all, and it's all just been wishful thinking. Perhaps I am just setting myself up to be made a fool of.

And so I never re-composed that email. And so I sit here, pondering endings and signs and all those perhaps... (Is the plural perhapses? Or perhaps? Perhaps is more poetic than perhapses.)

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

A Few Miscellaneous Things

I love Office Space. I regret having given up custody of that movie to the Big X when we split. I was the one who paid for it. Sure, it was a gift to him, but still. My money. I should have just kept it.

I think my dog lies to me. I think she scratches at the door when she doesn't really have to go out. She holds it for up to 12 hours sometimes, and then other times she decides she needs to go out an hour after she was just out. And always when I'm watching a critical point in some tv show.

P. wrote me again. He wants to know how I'm doing and blah, blah, blah. So my question is, should I write back and keep up a friendship, knowing that in his mind that means the door is still open? I don't like people not liking me, so my initial reaction is to write back. Also, I could totally use him for a date to my cousin's wedding in July if we are still talking then and I don't have a boyfriend.

But that is mean. Using him like that when I have no intention of actually dating him again.

My Mike is coming over next weekend for dinner and a movie. I have been told alternately to make a move and see what happens or else to have an adult conversation about the fact that I think there is something between us and does he also think that and should we pursue it? But I hate adult conversations. I'd much rather just jump a guy and sort it out later.

More Endings

So P. wrote me back and I opened it. And it was good, not bad. He said all the right things because he is a nice guy. Really. He's just too damn clingy. He wants me to contact him when I'm ready to start a relationship. WTF. Don't you know a line when you are receiving it, bub?

Of course, new drama unfolds on the theme of endings...my mother is staying over tonight and she informed me that the Big X is going to be the frigging best man at my cousin's wedding this summer. And the slut who he cheated on me with (yes, she knew about me) who is 12 years younger than him (and grew up next door to him so he knew her when she was like 10 and he was 22--you know, when we first started dating each other--EWW) is invited. And my cousin wanted me to know that he "understands" if I don't come to the wedding.

Fuck that. I will be there with frigging bells on. And skinny. And a hot piece of man meat on my arm.

Now to plan how to make this all happen....Hmmm.

Endings

I've never been good at endings--the ending of an era, leaving a job (no matter how much I don't like it), ending relationships, ending friendships...all endings.

After I graduated college, I took the first job I could find that offered insurance and paid decently. It was as the manager of a small retail store. I H A T E D retail. I hated customer service when I did it in my first job, which I had from the time I was 16 through most of college (until the place closed, not until I chose to leave--perfect example of hating endings). I was going to work as a manager for a year or two until I figured out what to do next for my real career. I worked there for six years.

I think I have ended things with a guy once. When I was in seventh grade. In a note. Ever since then, guys ended things with me. Thinking back on my relationship with the Big X (Part I, Part II, Part III,and Part IV), I probably (if I didn't have this fear of ending things) would have ended things with him after 5 or 6 years, instead of . . . an unmentionable number of years. At which point he was the one who actually ended things.

I think I had a brief conversation with my therapist about all this at one point, in which I uncovered the fact that I moved away from my best friend when I was 4, and then a series of 3 childhood best friends moved away, leaving me with abandonment issues. Whatever the underlying reason, I hate endings.

I know that after only two dates, I hardly owed P. anything, but I also know that he is someone who would feel I owed him something. So I sort of settled and sent him an email. Now, I know email may not seem appropriate/kind, but first consider: 1. To meet him would constitute a third date, and it seems cruel to meet him to tell him I don't want to see him anymore. 2. To do it on the phone perhaps would be recommended but a. I was already bending by giving him a "breakup" when I don't think I owed that to him even; b. We had only spoken on the phone once in the past two weeks. 3. Our primary form of communication thus far had been email.

So I emailed him: "I've had a great time hanging out with you, but I have a lot going on with school and personal issues. I can't handle dating right now, so we should stop seeing each other. Good luck with everything." He didn't email me back for 3 days so I thought I was in the clear. But today he responded. It's sitting in my inbox, hounding me. I can't deal with endings. I don't want to read whatever he has to say.

I can't deal with endings. Especially if they get messy.

2nd Date, Part II: Tina is Crazy

So when we last left off, Tina had gotten too drunk due to cough syrup and wine combo and decided to play Questions with P...let's see where those two crazy kids ended up.

I must admit that I do not remember all of the conversation but here are some highlights: I told him all the little things he had done so far that bothered me, like RSVPing for both of us to the Dodd rally when I had already RSVPed for myself. See, I am freakish about my independence right now, which is probably why I haven't been dating. I told him how when he wrote to me in an email that he preferred speaking face-to-face instead of on the phone and instant messaging and he knew I felt the same way, that that really steamed me. We had only been out on one date. How could he know that about me? And this comment was in response to my asking him what his screen name was, so clearly I do IM and I told him, "You know what? I actually LOVE instant messaging. And it really bothered me that you would make an assumption about me."

I made several comments like this, and you know what? He didn't get upset and leave. I remember he asked me what would make me end things right away with someone, and I said, "Losing my independence, feeling smothered." I need my own space. I don't recall the things he listed in answer to that question, but I know that one of the things that he listed as a deal breaker is true of me. I didn't say so Friday night, though.

There were very good parts about the conversation. We shared what issues were most important to us politically, talked about what we want out of life, whether we want to move out of Connecticut, things like that. A lot of those answers made us seem pretty compatible.

We snogged more and more as the evening went on. He wants to run for office, which makes perfect sense to me after seeing him in action at the Dodd announcement. I told him that I would not picture myself as a politician's wife. Nothing I said seemed to throw him, so I thought, what the hell. Maybe my bad vibes about this thing are just me flipping out about dating. I decided to sleep with him.

Of course, the thing is, the thing that happened that should have let me know right away (were I sober) that I was not making a rational decision, is that part of my thought process on taking this step was, "Well, better to know now if we click in bed. If we really click, maybe I can get over some of the other stuff." And then--here is the first sign that Tina is crazy--the other part of that thought process was that while the "in bed" stuff was going on, the second part of the thought process was, "I should really sleep with Mike too because if I am giving P. this chance, Mike deserves it too. Mike and I have an equal or greater chance of working out."

Mike, who I often refer to as My Mike, is a guy who I've always been pretty sure is half in love with me but is incredibly shy. I've known him for years and occasionally have dinner with him, but nothing ever happens because he is so shy he won't try anything and even though I know how he feels about me, I have yet to develop a strong enough urge to care to try something from my end. Additionally, I think in the back of my head I know that if things worked out with Mike, it would be a Relationship. So we have dinner now and then and then don't talk for months at a time.

So here I am, sleeping with one guy and deciding that I should sleep with another, neither of whom I am convinced I want to Date. The sex was . . . sex. It's hard for sex to be bad. It wasn't bad. It wasn't great. As soon as it was over, I began to feel smothered. He was propped up on one elbow, looking down lovingly at me, caressing me. And I just wanted to be alone. I even made a joke about how he must be trying to figure out a way to leave now.

But he slept over. I remember waking up a few times during the morning and going back to sleep, hoping that if I slept long enough, he would just leave. By 11 AM, I knew this strategy would not work so I got up and took the dog out, then sat down to begin doing some homework. P. came out of the bedroom and sat down right next to me on the couch, put his arm around me, and kept trying to make out with me some more. I was having trouble breathing.

He wanted to cook me breakfast. I told him I don't eat breakfast and in fact don't have anything in the house to make breakfast with. He kissed me some more. I couldn't breathe. I would try to pull away and he would put his hand behind my head and pull me to him to kiss me some more. If I successfully pulled away, he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head or caressed my cheek.

I said I really needed to get some homework done. (HINT HINT!) He said, "Okay, I guess I'll leave. . . in a little while!" And began sucking my face again. I couldn't breathe. I was having a panic attack for like an hour while he kept trying to make out with me! Tight chest, shortness of breath, you name it. And this guy seems like he's about to profess his love for me and all I can think is, "How can I make him leave?"

He asked when he could see me again. I said not this weekend. I'm doing my homework. And I'm very busy during the week. How about next weekend? Nope. I think I'm going to Washington for the peace march. More suffocating kisses. Then finally he left.

And I did not walk him out for fear that it would bring on another bout of kissing.

I told my story to two friends and received very different reactions. Whitney seemed amused and empathetic. Rose, on the other hand, told me what I sort of knew already--that I was a bitch to him and he's a really nice guy and doesn't deserve it. She thinks I should call him and meet for drinks again or something, that I should give him another chance and even though I don't think it will work out in the long run, he is good practice for dating again.

I think the longer I see this guy, the more likely his feelings will get hurt. I fear he's already picked out some Valentine's Day present for me and is planning on introducing me to his friends and family. Argh!

I don't know what to do!