Times Like These...
I have some really fantastic friends. Really, I do. I'm a very lucky girl.
Tonight's blog post is being fueled by a rather large glass of what is affectionately known as "Three Buck Chuck" wine from Trader Joe's, imported from MN via my friends who were here last weekend. (Yes, we have TJ's here in KC, but it's new and the lines are for-ever.) Friends who, as it turned out, had a primary motive to come visit not to watch baseball, but to support their crazy dramatic friend in her bizarre twitterpation. Hence why they also brought wine and chocolate.
I am an emotional person. I do often come across as very down-to-earth, organized, stable. Inside, I'm often a hot mess, I just rarely let others see that. So I'm very lucky to have friends who represent all that a girl who is a secret hot mess needs.
In the past 24-36 or so hours, I have done an excellent job of pushing myself to the brink of creating "woe is me, I have a broken heart" playlists on Pandora or Spotify. I have analyzed and over-analyzed. I have obsessed. I have read more into actions or non-actions than is most likely there. I've just about convinced myself P hates me.
Frankly, I'm too close to the whole stupid situation to be even the slightest scintilla rational.
After a particularly nasty round of convincing myself P had moved on to greener pastures, I texted my friend who was here last weekend. She's one of those friends who will say what needs to be said, even if it is very hard to "hear." While she (sorta) talked me off the ledge as I was heading to rehearsal, she also said, "and you might just have to let him go."
I proceeded to throw a temper tantrum worthy of a 3 year old and stomp my Steve Maddens. "NO NO NO NO NO! I DON'T WANNA!! Okay, you're right."
At the dinner break in rehearsal, I had a text message -- from a wonderful friend and colleague based in Boston. She was full of supportive and wise advice, including the reminder that often times, guys need time to process stuff. There it is again, my nemesis. Time. Or, more appropriately, patience.
In the car to dinner, I was with three wonderful friends: two gay men and one straight man. They got the 15 second Cliff Notes version of my dating life, where I basically told them I was overly obsession about this guy and I knew I was a nut case. Without knowing much, if any, of the situation, they concurred. They pointed out something that my MN friend had, just in different words: it hasn't been very long. And, thankfully, they all said that they've been there themselves.
They saw it from the outside vantage of time. My MN friend pointed it out in a different way: we've only been on ONE one-on-one date. Yes, we've seen each other more than that and in situations that could be considered a date. But we've only been one-on-one once.
I am forcing myself to step back. It's been years, literally years, since I've felt the need to do this with a guy. I have to do my best to keep the bigger picture, I have to see the forest and not just the trees. We've gone more than 24 hours without texting before, and it wasn't the end of the world as I know it. This is really hard. Really. My urge to text him is pretty overwhelming, but being a clingy, needy woman is not who I am and it will not attract the kind of guy I want.
I can analyze and obsess. Or, I can continue to be a hot, fabulous woman with fantastic shoes who is not trying to see if the glass is half full or half empty, but simply that there is wine for the drinking. Time for me to remind myself that I am worth pursuing.
You want me? You come get me.
Tonight's blog post is being fueled by a rather large glass of what is affectionately known as "Three Buck Chuck" wine from Trader Joe's, imported from MN via my friends who were here last weekend. (Yes, we have TJ's here in KC, but it's new and the lines are for-ever.) Friends who, as it turned out, had a primary motive to come visit not to watch baseball, but to support their crazy dramatic friend in her bizarre twitterpation. Hence why they also brought wine and chocolate.
I am an emotional person. I do often come across as very down-to-earth, organized, stable. Inside, I'm often a hot mess, I just rarely let others see that. So I'm very lucky to have friends who represent all that a girl who is a secret hot mess needs.
In the past 24-36 or so hours, I have done an excellent job of pushing myself to the brink of creating "woe is me, I have a broken heart" playlists on Pandora or Spotify. I have analyzed and over-analyzed. I have obsessed. I have read more into actions or non-actions than is most likely there. I've just about convinced myself P hates me.
Frankly, I'm too close to the whole stupid situation to be even the slightest scintilla rational.
After a particularly nasty round of convincing myself P had moved on to greener pastures, I texted my friend who was here last weekend. She's one of those friends who will say what needs to be said, even if it is very hard to "hear." While she (sorta) talked me off the ledge as I was heading to rehearsal, she also said, "and you might just have to let him go."
I proceeded to throw a temper tantrum worthy of a 3 year old and stomp my Steve Maddens. "NO NO NO NO NO! I DON'T WANNA!! Okay, you're right."
At the dinner break in rehearsal, I had a text message -- from a wonderful friend and colleague based in Boston. She was full of supportive and wise advice, including the reminder that often times, guys need time to process stuff. There it is again, my nemesis. Time. Or, more appropriately, patience.
In the car to dinner, I was with three wonderful friends: two gay men and one straight man. They got the 15 second Cliff Notes version of my dating life, where I basically told them I was overly obsession about this guy and I knew I was a nut case. Without knowing much, if any, of the situation, they concurred. They pointed out something that my MN friend had, just in different words: it hasn't been very long. And, thankfully, they all said that they've been there themselves.
They saw it from the outside vantage of time. My MN friend pointed it out in a different way: we've only been on ONE one-on-one date. Yes, we've seen each other more than that and in situations that could be considered a date. But we've only been one-on-one once.
I am forcing myself to step back. It's been years, literally years, since I've felt the need to do this with a guy. I have to do my best to keep the bigger picture, I have to see the forest and not just the trees. We've gone more than 24 hours without texting before, and it wasn't the end of the world as I know it. This is really hard. Really. My urge to text him is pretty overwhelming, but being a clingy, needy woman is not who I am and it will not attract the kind of guy I want.
I can analyze and obsess. Or, I can continue to be a hot, fabulous woman with fantastic shoes who is not trying to see if the glass is half full or half empty, but simply that there is wine for the drinking. Time for me to remind myself that I am worth pursuing.
You want me? You come get me.
"My urge to text him is pretty overwhelming, but being a clingy, needy woman is not who I am and it will not attract the kind of guy I want."
ReplyDeleteExactly :)