2009-09-23 - 5:00 p.m.
It’s really hard to think, what with all my neurosis clouding my neurons. Your neurons might synapse that it’s not that big of a deal, but after 17 months of singlehood, 10 of which have been single-momhood, it is.
I’ve got a boyfriend. Well, I think I do. We’ve talked about it a couple times and that seems to be the consensus. Yet I still have this nagging in the back of my overcast gray matter that says it’s not in stone. What is in stone, ever, anyways? Besides things actually carved in stone, not much.
The complications come into play when I give you the information that the boyfriend is also my roommate. And most currently, my best friend. To some, this more-than-friendness may seem a logical step, not even a leap. To others, it could signify friendship suicide. I suppose I’m teetering on that fence right now, but still trying to remember that, whether I tip one way or another, I’m still landing feet first. This is no meteroid to my proverbial tiny world.
It sucks to lose friends, it sucks to have broken hearts and it sucks to not know. But if I can’t accept all of the above as a part of life, then the work I’ve been doing on “taking life on life terms” these past 17 months is all for naught. Yet I don’t want to self-sabotage, either.
Here’s some background: I found myself increasingly attracted to him after he moved into my house. I wouldn’t have let him live with me if I hadn’t been so absolutely sure that I would never be romantically or sexually captivated by him. While he has a bangin’ bod, I didn’t really see much else there that worked for me. I guess that sometimes changes when personality comes into play.
I didn’t think that personality was an issue, either. He’s a chronic womanizer and a Jekyll and Hyde in relationships, according to him. I’ve seen some proof, also, so it’s not just oddly motivated embellishments of his exploits and behavior.
The reason I let him move in is because we got along so well. I didn’t know that it would make my day when I saw his car was in front of the house when I arrived home from work. I didn’t know he was going to treat my child so well, or me so well. That he’s taken me on more dates, as a friend, than most guys I’ve ever dated have. Combined. That he would make me feel confident about both my physical and mental self. That, whenever I need him, he’s right there. That he has put up with my psycho, and acted like it was no big deal, and forgiven me easily.
It’s hard not to fall for all that. Some people may be flawed in less obvious ways than recovering addicts and alcoholics, but I think that’s what makes us grateful. So yes, he’s done some horrible and crazy things in his past, and he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s also working so hard to become a better person. He gives me advice and things to ponder from a perspective I can’t reach without his help.
Like a friend said, “You’re in deep. Deeper than you even know.”
