Oh Zen, Where For Art Thou?

Posted on January 16, 2013

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Since Friday i’ve been gradually declining into a place I didn’t think I could – or would – so soon again.

I’m anxious. Lonely. Aggitated. Frustrated. Not sleeping properly. Can’t concentrate. BLEUGH.

I started out on Saturday morning after seeing ‘THE GREAT LOVE’ for the first time in 8 months the night before, feeling relaxed and happy and excited and really quite chilled out – philosophical even – about what it could all mean, if anything at all. It was just really really nice to see him. It was a little bit magical, actually, and I felt like maybe it was finally the start of us being back in each other’s lives again.

But in the past there was something about this guy that would always make me go a little bit stir crazy. And after a day or two thinking things were good I hate to say it, but the crazy has come back.

I’m watching my phone every 5 minutes. I can’t concentrate on the TV. I’m over thinking and over analysing everything, trying to talk myself out of falling for him again only to surrender myself to the solid fact that that’s exactly what’s happening. Only I don’t feel great about it. And falling in love should feel great, right?

HE feels good mind you (which is a good thing, and i’m genuinely pleased about that) – I only know because he told me last night on the phone. He didn’t think he’d be feeling this great after I’d said I just wanted to be chilled and see what happens (which was my hugely believable stance on Friday night). He said he wasn’t ready to accept we could only ever be friends, that he still feels like there could be something between us. So of course he feels great – i’ve given him the ultimate no pressure situation. Call me whenever I said. Call me in 2 weeks, 2 months or 2 years. It’s all good, I’d said.

And I meant it when I said it! I really did.

But now i’m living this hideous lie. It started with me imagining if he might be the person I actually end up with. Alright, there’s no pretending. Marriage, babies, the lot. On Saturday I was imagining his bloody proposal speech! ARGGGH. Such a loser.

I’d had thoughts like this before obviously (not the speech, but general ‘could he be the one’ type musings), as one does when they meet the love of their lives, but i’d always filed them away under ‘Don’t Go There’. And last night, doped up on painkillers following what was really quite a serious operation on my right knee, we chatted for an hour and I poured my heart out – only for him to say ‘you’re over thinking it babe’.

Which was the worst thing he could have said. Because that’s exactly what he does to me. He makes me over think everything because i’ve never felt like this about anybody in my entire life. Everything to do with him is like heaven and hell. Ultimately I am so intoxicated by him that I want to be with him – or at least talking to him – all the damn time. Being with him is like a freedom from myself i’ve never felt before as it offers my life something that as i’ve been getting older, i’ve wondered would ever happen; yet its wrapped up in this incredibly painful prison sentence of fraught emotion and fear.

So i’m behaving in ways I never would if I had my sense of control intact. Every other guy i’ve ever ended up being with, I wasn’t really that bothered about to begin with. So its always worked; and i’d end up being loved up with them as opposed to falling for them in this falling out a plane in the sky with no parachute sort of way. When I acted relaxed and chilled out about relationships, its because that’s how I felt.

I feel like i’ve gone from 0-60seconds over night, and I’m scared. I’m scared it will freak him out to see me like this. I’m freaking out that he’ll freak out on me, like he has so many times in the past, and choose to stop talking to me over telling me that he doesn’t think he can make it work / give me what I need (and with him i’m obviously a bit more needy than with most).

Gah.

I’m lying here in excruciating pain from my knee, I need to be relaxing and being back in that zen headspace and all I can think about is why i’m spooning crazy again. I’ve meditated, taken more codeine, attempted to have a bath (which was like an animal trying to swim with a broken leg), changed out of my paper hospital pants (well, cut them off of my body), I’ve heated up leftover chinese, chatted to my best friend, and my mum, burst into tears more than once and just felt utterly utterly drained. And all I can think about is HIM. Why hasn’t he text today, or called, skyped me? It’s the same thing again, the confusing communication style. Even though we chatted an hour last night, and texted a bit after, and he only said nice things. How he missed me. How he was glad i’m okay. I really don’t need to be worried today, everything is FINE.

But every time I open up I feel like – or fear – that he backs off, and its unfair because I was post-operation last night, doped up to the eyeballs and he encouraged me to talk about how I feel about him, what’s going on in my head – and I just regret telling him now.

The truth is that I probably AM over thinking it. That he’s happy as Larry (not Hagman. RIP) going round in a haze of loved up-ness, thinking only good things oblivious to my state of mind. But I suppose this is what it always boils down to – I want/need/expect certain things and with him I never really feel like i’m getting them.

Or getting them quick enough. Am I just incredibly inpatient? Like, what is my problem?

I’m laid up in bed, less than 24 hours since surgery, and i’ve not had one text from him today asking me if i’m okay. And I really needed it.

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Posted in: Journal, Random, The Truth