Finally
After 10 years of dating the wrong guy, I think I finally got it right.
AJ is smart. He doesn’t have a raging drug problem, or commitment issues (commitment issues being fear of commitment or being such a fan of commitment that he’s committed to me and someone else all at the same time). He has a job (I know because he introduced me to his boss on date 3). He lives by himself (I know because I’m a big ho and went home with him on date 4). He takes me on grown-up dates (i.e. dates that don’t involve a suggested donation) and we can spend hours together without running out of things to say.
So why am I scared shitless?
Part of it is because I’m just plain crazy. I don’t mean to be, it just kinda happened. What with Hot Stove playing games with my head for five years and the requisite daddy issues, I’m that girl, the one that eventually writes a book and winds up on Oprah. So I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The fact that there is no other shoe, that this is a guy who will always return a call, will show up 15 minutes early for me so that I’m not waiting, will always open the door, pull out the chair, make sure I have everything I need, none of this has sunk in. It doesn’t feel real for me at all.
The other part of it is that it does feel so real. This is the first time I can actually picture being in a normal relationship with somebody. This is a relationship that wouldn’t involve rehab or other girlfriends or wives or a pathetic attempt to get a GED. It was so easy before. If the relationship failed, it was so clearly not my fault. I mean, how can you blame clean, sober, not-otherwise-committed me when the relationship turned to shit? It wasn’t me, the drug addict did it. It’s a surprisingly convenient excuse.
And now, that excuse is gone. He’s not a drug addict. He’s a nice boy who wants a nice girl to look after and go adventuring with (and I’ve managed to fool him that I am that nice girl, so shhh). I kept saying over the past 10 years that I wanted a nice boy, one that wouldn’t play games with my head and would call when he said he would. Now I have one. And I keep thinking, “Damaged goods, they weren’t so bad.”
I date a nice guy that’s not totally screwed up and if it fails, it might be because I did something wrong. I’ve always been able to walk away from relationships totally blameless (I didn’t make him gay after all … blame his mother). This is one where I might not be able to get away without a scratch.
Although, really, with all the scars I have, a scratch might not be such a bad thing.
AJ is smart. He doesn’t have a raging drug problem, or commitment issues (commitment issues being fear of commitment or being such a fan of commitment that he’s committed to me and someone else all at the same time). He has a job (I know because he introduced me to his boss on date 3). He lives by himself (I know because I’m a big ho and went home with him on date 4). He takes me on grown-up dates (i.e. dates that don’t involve a suggested donation) and we can spend hours together without running out of things to say.
So why am I scared shitless?
Part of it is because I’m just plain crazy. I don’t mean to be, it just kinda happened. What with Hot Stove playing games with my head for five years and the requisite daddy issues, I’m that girl, the one that eventually writes a book and winds up on Oprah. So I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The fact that there is no other shoe, that this is a guy who will always return a call, will show up 15 minutes early for me so that I’m not waiting, will always open the door, pull out the chair, make sure I have everything I need, none of this has sunk in. It doesn’t feel real for me at all.
The other part of it is that it does feel so real. This is the first time I can actually picture being in a normal relationship with somebody. This is a relationship that wouldn’t involve rehab or other girlfriends or wives or a pathetic attempt to get a GED. It was so easy before. If the relationship failed, it was so clearly not my fault. I mean, how can you blame clean, sober, not-otherwise-committed me when the relationship turned to shit? It wasn’t me, the drug addict did it. It’s a surprisingly convenient excuse.
And now, that excuse is gone. He’s not a drug addict. He’s a nice boy who wants a nice girl to look after and go adventuring with (and I’ve managed to fool him that I am that nice girl, so shhh). I kept saying over the past 10 years that I wanted a nice boy, one that wouldn’t play games with my head and would call when he said he would. Now I have one. And I keep thinking, “Damaged goods, they weren’t so bad.”
I date a nice guy that’s not totally screwed up and if it fails, it might be because I did something wrong. I’ve always been able to walk away from relationships totally blameless (I didn’t make him gay after all … blame his mother). This is one where I might not be able to get away without a scratch.
Although, really, with all the scars I have, a scratch might not be such a bad thing.
posted by Still Hopeful @ 3:34 PM
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