Sick At Heart

Two weeks ago, Dee ended the relationship that she was in; already, she and I have been talking about the possibility of us being together. It's odd. On one day, she was very resistant to the idea, but on the next she was for it. Now, days have passed and it's amazing how deep we are into this -- whatever this is. I've made plans to fly to her state two weeks from now. I'll spend the weekend with her, probably at her apartment; it will be the first time that we meet, and it will likely be intense.

I don't understand how we got here all of a sudden. I know I helped bring it on, but I don't think I actually believed it would happen. I've been thinking about it for too many years, and now that it's here I feel hesitant and worried.

My anxiety probably has something to do with Lor. Now that I'm thinking about entering into a new and serious relationship, I know that I'll have to cut off ties with her. That thought sickens me. I've been heavy-hearted for days because of it, and I still am. She and I haven't had future plans for a while, but now there won't even be the option for any. I'm going to have to hurt her and I can't deal with that idea. She's been the only one to reliably be there for me and care for me so deeply for the last couple of years. It will be awful to lose her.

It will be even worse if it doesn't work out between Dee and I. The odds of things working out with Dee are already slim because of the distance and because we've never even met. But if we decide to try a relationship, and then if we fail, I will have lost my secret friend, Dee, who is arguably my best friend these days, and I will have also lost Lor, a girl who I could easily be with under the right circumstances, someone whose love I already have and whom I already love.

This is terribly distressing. Yet this is what I do to myself.

 

When Changes Aren't Noticeable

Several months have gone by. Lor and I still see each other, though we are no longer officially dating. Whatever that means. Personally, I find it easier to let things remain the same than to cut her out of my life entirely and start dating others. The idea of dating is just not appealing. Lor is still good to me, for the most part. I don't trust her completely, and I don't think of a future for us, but we're comfortable together. My mind set reminds me of something an uncle once told me about a woman he was seeing. He described her as a "pleasant lady." I hoped at the time that such a thing would never be the best I could say about any woman I dated. Yet here I am saying pretty much that.

Moving on also seems unappealing because it doesn't involve Dee. A month or two ago, Dee admitted that she loves me "as a friend." It was the best thing I've heard all year, and something I've been hoping to hear for much longer. But it was only a sentimental moment; she's still dating someone and has no intention of being with me. Even if she did want to be with me, I have no idea how I would react. Part of me thinks there's no way I would pass up the opportunity to be in a relationship with her. Another part worries that it would just ruin whatever friendship we've built up.

It's neither here nor there, though; nothing of the sort will happen.

She has invited me to visit her at Christmastime, though. The thoughts racing through my mind in response are: How could I swing this secret visit? Would I have to meet her boyfriend? And how can I resist? I smile to think of meeting her in person for the first time. I smile to think that she invited me at all.

If Lor and I continue to see each other, I may tell her that I'm in touch with Dee. I would rather not lose Dee's friendship again, even though it seems inevitable (I don't see how we can last when both of us believe that being friends, especially such good friends, would eventually interfere with our relationships. Plus, it's inconsistent with what we want -- to be best friends with the person we're with). The alternative is to keep Dee a secret indefinitely, and I don't want that. Do I?

Chances Slip Away

Though it's been weeks since the breakup occurred, things still seem a bit uncertain. It would probably be best if things didn't seem uncertain. Lor still wants me back, but she wants me to change first. Neither of us is willing to budge.

But there's something else for me now: I'm convinced that she's been lying to me. Not only do we hardly talk anymore, but I don't feel that I can trust what we have talked about. We drift further from each other every day, and it's very depressing. Even if she were to agree to come back to me today, I'd first expect her to clear up the lies she's told me; I'd also want to know everything that I missed from her life since she cut me out of it. These are repairs that I think of as necessary before we could ever go back to normal, but the chances of those repairs being made grow more slim every day.

I suppose I need to stop thinking that there is a chance. I need to think of this as permanent.

 

Spreading The News Slowly

Until today, I'd only told two people about my breakup with Lor. I'd told Dee and BioDad, probably the two most harmless people I could have told. Dee has never met Lor, and she's in another state. As my friend only, she offered nothing but support. BioDad is almost as reserved as I am, maybe more. I wasn't likely to get a huge reaction out of him. He only said that I should visit him more now that I'm free; and he said to find a local girl next time.

But tonight I finally told my mom. First she said she was sorry to hear it. And then she said that she thought Lor and I were the perfect couple. What?! I don't understand. I didn't ask why. I didn't want to be saddened by her explanation.

When we said goodbye later, my mom said that she hopes Lor and I can work things out and that she doesn't like seeing me "by myself."

Ugh.

 

Broken In

After work yesterday, I found my car had been broken into. The driver-side window was smashed to bits, and my GPS unit was stolen. Sigh.

A break in and a break up, all in one week. Hopefully I can avoid a break out of any kind; otherwise I may break down and cry.

Ya, bad humor. So what.

 

Broken Up

She said yes. Yes, it's over. As long as I'm unwilling to change my controlling and jealous ways, it's over.

That was a week ago, and it was an even worse fight than the one before it. My voice was raw for days. As was my soul.

She said that she's been miserable with me. All this time, I knew that she didn't like the situation and I knew that I made it worse. But I didn't know I made her miserable. That's what I do to the women I date.

She also said that she's been too embarrassed to talk about our relationship with others. With her friends or family. Embarrassed because of my rules and my jealousy and my controlling nature. I make it too uncomfortable for her to talk; to live; to be happy.

Why would I ever agree to change? I refused when she asked me to! Not only is a promise on that front hard to make stick, but I can't imagine continuing on any more in our relationship -- it would only make her miserable and embarrass her. I want her to be happy, and that's not going to happen with me.

We've talked a couple of times since she broke up with me. She keeps hoping I'll change my mind and agree to change. Agree to compromise. I think about it, because it hurts to think of the alternative. But I always refuse. Even if I were able to change my ways, I still think I'd manage to make her miserable. And this long distance thing isn't making matters any easier. The only solution for that is to get married. Funny thing is, up until recently she would have agreed to marry me. Despite being miserable.

The best thing for both of us is probably to let this break up stick.

 

Trouble In Bed

Lor was itching for a fight during her visit this weekend. Our dinner with Rankles didn't help matters, either. First, there was too much wine in her system. Then there was the long conversation about his marriage woes; that was one sure way to dredge up feelings that would eventually spark a fight.

Of course, she always chooses to fight as soon as we get into bed. This leads to even worse feelings. Earlier, while we were having dinner, Rankles asked us how we're doing as a couple. This came up again while Lor lay in bed. She said, "I should have told him the truth."

That is a perfect example of the complications that come from arguing in bed: Not only was she implying that our relationship is in bad shape, but she was talking about spilling her guts to another guy -- all while lying in bed; in other words, she allowed thoughts of someone else to invade the most intimate space that we have. Once again, it was a long, rough night.

So today I sent her a message asking whether it's over between us.

 

Secret Friend = Secret Weapon?

Perhaps this is making things seem better than they are, but it amuses me, nonetheless.

 

Random Thoughts About Two Girls

I think Dee loves me. I try to find out in sneaky ways, but I'm probably obvious about it. When we write to each other, it's as if we say that we love each other. The actual words aren't really necessary.

She likes our arrangement, though. The fact that we live three thousand miles away from each other and will likely never meet is a sort of protection against ruining what we have. I don't know that she's wrong to like it. I probably would ruin it if we had anything more.

I am ruining what I have with Lor on a daily basis. Some days, I don't know if it's entirely unintentional. I need to be a better person to her. She's good to me.

I asked Dee today whether she minds the fact that I keep our friendship secret. She said that she sees herself remaining happy about it for the foreseeable future. I was both disappointed by her answer and glad at the same time.

 

Not A Second Home

Tomorrow begins a three-day weekend. In the morning, I'll head up to Vancouver to see Lor. I'll help her move into a new apartment and shop for things to fill it with. Hopefully, when I'm not helping her to settle in, I'll be able to get away and do something constructive, like writing.

Except for the drive, I never look forward to the Vancouver trip. It's good to see the girlfriend, of course, and there are hikes and other activities which are fun. But Lor seems to think I should treat Vancouver as a second home, to feel as comfortable there as she does when she comes to Seattle. I don't, and it's unlikely that I will. At home, I can do my own thing. I can get things done. It's mine, and under my control. I know my own home and can take liberties there. When I'm in Vancouver, I often feel that my time is wasted, largely because I have no intention of building a life there. I simply have no interest in becoming attached to the place. The chances of my treating it as anything more than a place to meet Lor are very slim.

This is a poor description of my feelings on the matter, but it's all I have at the moment.

 

Itching For Change In The New Year

Here's a summation of the past week's events:

• Broken Relationships
  Yesterday afternoon, I learned that Rankles and Maybug are separating. I was anticipating the news, but it was still unsettling. Especially considering how close I've become with the two of them over the last couple of years.
• A Secret Friendship Grows
  Monday was Dee's birthday. I sent her a gift, but she also sent me one: a compilation of music she'd put together for me. And, last night, after corresponding via email and blog for the past few years, we finally talked on the phone for the first time. If we continue on like this, I don't know how we'll keep our friendship secret.
• Work & What I'm Doing With Myself
  Conflicts at my job once again have me thinking about getting out, leaving to do other things. It's steady and well-paying, but I've lost my appetite for it. I've been at the same place and doing the same thing for so long now that I think I've become complacent with my life. I've forgotten that my time is limited.

 

Here I Am

Wanted to see if collecting my thoughts somewhere did any good, so here I am.  Maybe I'll make note of my activities, too.  Hell, even the weather has a chance of making it in here.

Feyly, by the way, is the adverb form of the word fey.

fey
–adjective

1. British Dialect. doomed; fated to die.
2. Chiefly Scot. appearing to be under a spell; marked by an apprehension of death, calamity, or evil.
3. supernatural; unreal; enchanted: elves, fairies, and other fey creatures.
4. being in unnaturally high spirits, as were formerly thought to precede death.
5. whimsical; strange; otherworldly: a strange child with a mysterious smile and a fey manner.