I give up.
For the last five months, I’ve been seeing1 E in the most undefined way ever. To the point that I’m not even sure that he’s actually in to me the way that I’m into him. Is it possible to still be crushing on the guy you’re seeing? Because I am. Hard.
But I give up. I can’t do this any more. Mrs. Jesus was right all those months ago, back in the beginning of this path I’ve been traveling, when she gave me stellar advice that I refused to listen to: let him pursue you.
I am an impatient girl when it comes to things I want. And in trying to be patient in letting this relationship unfold, I have failed. Even worse, I’m pretty sure I’ve screwed it up. This is not such an uncommon thing really. I’ve screwed up pretty much every relationship I’ve ever been in–mostly because I was involved at all.
So, how did I screw this one up? Lack of communication.
E makes me nervous in a way that I haven’t experienced in ten years. It’s like being sixteen again and having a crush on Punk and always being afraid of saying exactly the wrong thing when in his presence. It’s been a long time since I was self-conscious about what I say and how I act and what other people think about me, but it all comes roiling to the surface whenever E is in sight or in mind.
For some reason (and my apologies to every guy I have ever dated), I am unable to communicate with the guys I’m dating or want to date. I can spill my guts to everyone and sundry except the person it matters with most. My poor friends have listened to me wax poetical, rail, and gush about E. My roommate is sick of it. I’m sure the rest of them are too, but are too nice to tell me. Poor Josh, every time we start out talking about his relationships, it always gets turned around to mine.
So this lack of communication makes it impossible for me to ask the only question I’ve needed answered in the last five months: are you into me? and if you aren’t, would you tell me?
Okay, so that’s two questions. But E is such a nice guy that I’m pretty sure if the answer to the first is no, the answer to the second might be no, also.
But even while E is a nice guy, he’s a quiet one. He never calls me. He never IM’s me first. He rarely responds to my txt messages these days while he’s out of town. Which means that I’m always the one reaching out and attempting communication. In effect, I’m pursuing him; exactly what Mrs. Jesus told me to not do.
So it’s hard to tell just how into me he is when it seems on my end that he’s making exactly no effort at all.
I think that it doesn’t help, also, that I spent the majority of last semester not only working through my course load, but depression as well. A depression that made me terribly lonely when I was alone, to the point that I tried to fill up my empty hours with people, E being near the top of the list of who to call first. He is quite possibly the only one of my friends who didn’t know I was depressed, but he was the one I was leaning on the most.
This obviously made me call him a lot, and we hung out all the time. By finals week, I was seeing him five days a week, usually for dinner between cramming for finals. But it was mostly my instigation. His calling–or txting–to ask me for dinner was never as prolific as my asking him to hang out, to play smash brothers or frisbee or watch tv, to eat dinner or to go bike riding. If not for the depression, I think I would have been much more able to follow Mrs. Jesus’s advice, to not push what we were doing, to give him a chance to show me that he’s as in to me as I am him.
But when we both left town, everything stopped. Since then, it’s always me first. Me calling. Me txting. Me emailing. Me IM’ing. And half the time, I get no response because he’s busy doing the things you do when you’re home for the summer.
So, I give up. I can’t do this any more. I can’t keep putting myself out there to get no response.
Maybe things will change when he’s back in Chico. Maybe he’ll be the one to put himself out there, to say that he really wants more than what we’re doing.
But maybe all along this was a fling that I wouldn’t let go. And it’s time for me to find that out too. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if that was the case. He’s much too good for me.
Whatever happens is in his hands. It’s his turn to make a decision. I can’t be more obvious than I already have been.
Sigh. I forgot how hard relationships are.
- previously this read dating, but Josh has so kindly informed me that I was not actually dating E. We never went on any actual dates–where we would plan anything in advance. It was more, hey, are you free? then lets hang out. Sigh. Such a let down to find that out, since I’ve been telling everyone that we were dating, yet still having to correct those who would call him my boyfriend. [back]
A Guest Post by Josh
For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Lisa’s BIFF (Best Internet Friend Forever). You’re probably wondering why I’m writing on Lisa’s blog. It’s simple: I took it over for the day and I’m bringing you a special, awesome, birthday post.
Lisa and I have known each other since the dawn of time. We discovered fire together. You are welcome by the way. We also invented the wheel, but at the time, we didn’t call it “wheel” we simply called it “weirdly shaped, smooth rock that is useful”. We also invented sliced bread. You are welcome for that also.
So maybe we haven’t really been friends since the dawn of time, but it’s close. We met 30 internet years ago in the old K2 forums. If you take anything from the previous sentence it should be this; we are internet geeks. At first, we didn’t talk much outside the forums. We’d read each other’s blogs, take over forum threads together, make each other laugh with our witty, sarcastic humor. It wasn’t until I broke up with an ex girlfriend and I moved back to New York that we really started talking. Funny thing, not once did I think about getting in her pants. So weird, I know. But I think that we both realized once we started talking that we were meant to be best friends forever.
Lisa was a first for me. Not that I haven’t ever had internet friends before, but I’ve never been able to open up to anyone like I’ve been able to with Lisa. Lisa was one of the first people ever to know that I am Transgender. Everything that happens to me, she’s one of the first people I tell. She is always around to listen to me whine, complain, gush, and cry. This is why she’s a first for me. I’ve never been able to open up to people like this before and if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be able to do it with other people.
Living without Lisa is no long an option. On some level, we’re soul mates, meant to travel the depths of the Internet together. Find a cool link? Share it with Lisa. Break up with a girlfriend? Call Lisa saying ZOMG! If I ever need advice, usually about girls, I turn to Lisa. She might not always know the answer to my girl related questions, but at least I know I’m not the only one completely confused by girls. It helps that, you know, she’s a girl. If I ever feel like an asshole, which is often, she makes me feel like less of an asshole.
Lisa says she is unsympathetic, however, I’ve never seen that side of her. She’s one of my biggest supporters, one of the biggest influences, and a constant force of inspiration to me. She’s the optimistic one in our friendship, and at this point in my life, I desperately need optimism.
Aside from all the serious stuff, she’s one of the only people I can talk about robots with. Or the fact that I really, really, want a giant heart-shaped bed with leopard print sheets. Preferably one that vibrates. We share a love for Chuck Palahniuk, but if she hated him I would still love her. We understand each other’s geekiness and awkwardness.
Over the years, Lisa has done so much for me. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t have had the balls to ask out a girl, or tell internet crush girl that I like her. I also think that back in February, when I found out about my heart, if Lisa hadn’t been there, I would have simply given up. In return, I wanted to do something for her. I made up a list of things that Lisa needs to do this year, and hopefully, if she follows my advice, she will have the best year ever. Let me just point out that I absolutely love lists and if I didn’t love Lisa, I wouldn’t make her one of her own.
The Lisa List
- I’ve given a lot of thought about this list. I always have trouble thinking of what to put as number one, however, with this list there was no question what would go here. So, number one on the list: Get Laid.
- Number two was also easy to come up with. I’m going out to California sometime within the next couple of months to see Lisa. She has a Wii. She has Guitar Hero. Number two is get better at Guitar Hero. I don’t want to show up, on your home turf no less, and kick your ass.
Love you Lisa. - This one is important. Get laid again. Of course, I’m only looking out for you here.
- Finally write that post about me that I’ve been waiting a few months for. In it you should say that a) I am awesome, b) that I like long walks on the beach preferably during sunset and along the Pacific Ocean, not the Atlantic (because it smells), and c) that internet crush girl should either let me call her or she should call me. Not only would this boost my already huge ego, but if it works then I could stop bugging you about internet crush girl and you would have more time to work on the rest of the list.
- This is probably the hardest one to do but it’ll also make the biggest difference. Number five is to stop over-thinking, over-analyzing, and just have fun. I suffer from this also, but sometimes you just need to let things happen.
Lisa, I wish you the happiest birthday ever. I know you’ve already had a good one since you had a kick ass party on Friday, you got your new bed, and you’re getting an iPhone. But aside from that, I really hope that you have a great year because after all the shit I put you through, you deserve it.
Happy Birthday Lisa.
We’re big fans of the random rules at our place. Nothing better than making up a rule and then forcing yourself to follow it.
One of the many rules that must be followed for no better reason than because we said so is the necessity of purchasing at least one movie from the $5 bin at Wal-Mart.
It has become painfully obvious to ME and me that our movie collections leave much to be desired. Mine contains mostly animated Disney films, while she is a connoisseur of the horror genre—and she’d like it to be known for the record that really, it’s the thriller horrors she likes; there is no need for unnecessary gross violence (we’re looking at you Saws 1–3).
This means that when we feel like a movie outside of these genres, our collections are woefully inadequate. It’s been a long time since I actively added to my movie collection. Previously, if I ever felt the need to buy a movie, I didn’t because I knew my ex had probably purchased it months ago. I stopped adding to my collection because I could just borrow from him.
Since the breakup, I have been slowly adding movies I love to my collection. The qualification for purchase is I must have seen the movie before, and like it enough that I didn’t attempt to change the channel on a second watch-through.
The $5 bin is perfect for this, as it is filled with movies that I have seen before. Granted, they are not often the cream of the movie crop. After all, the bins are filled with Panic Room and Crimson Tide.
But good movies can be found, if you dig deep enough into the bin. So far, I’ve come away with Ultra Violet, Bewitched, and X-Men 2. Eventually I’ll get around to picking up all of the Adam Sandler flicks that have made it into the bin, and Matrix: Reloaded and Revolutions.
Also, pretty much any film that contains Keanu Reeves. I don’t know why, but I somehow love everything he’s in—and yes, I realize this is as bad as saying I love everything Pauly Shore has done. But I can’t help it. I’m a huge Keanu Reeves fan. I’m still holding out hopes that and Ted’s Bogus Journey will be unearthed in the bin during excavations.
Wal-Mart trips are few and far between around here. It requires a car and the freeway and bad radio stations, and drivers that don’t understand traffic rules when not on a normal street. Also, we rarely have reason to pop over to the far side of town.
But when we do make it all the way over there, there is no excuses for not spending ten minutes digging through the movie bin to find a movie we haven’t seen in a while—or watched last weekend on cable—and bring home for our very own.
It’s not a trip to Wal-Mart if you don’t come home with a movie or two to add to the collection.
