Crazy in Love? No, Sane in Love.
When I was single, which was most of my life, I was not good at dating. At all. In fact, I hated first dates so much, I could barely control my urge to vomit beforehand. I don't remember how these first dates came to be... Probably some guy I met in a bar called me the next day to set up a date. That is if I didn't go home with him that night. Not to sound slutty, but those were the kind of "dates" I could relate to. You see somebody out, you hit it off, you go home together and then maybe the pieces will fall into place after that. Usually not, but that kind of night was a hell of a lot more fun to me than the awkward date conversation over a drink and maybe a meal.
The worst for me was when I really, really liked a guy. I would be too nervous to even have a normal conversation with the guy during our time together. I'd be too nervous... Wanting so badly to show him who I was, how cool I could be, but too uncomfortable with my like for him to be able to do that. To compound the problem, when I really liked a guy I would envision us together, plan the wedding, decorate the apartment, all before we even knew each other's middle names.
And then, in the midst of my future visions, after the date was over, when I was hoping he would call, I would become overcome with second-guessing every move, every word spoken, wondering if he truly liked me, too. Then I would go into a frenzy... Should I call him? Why hasn't he called me? I'm a grown-up. I should be able to call him and tell him how I feel and get this thing over with if he doesn't feel the same way. No matter how many friends told me not to do it, I would convince myself that it was the right thing to do. He, naturally, would be scared off, never to call again. It was my self-fulfilling prophecy and I repeated it over and over again.
Then the despair would set in. I felt in in my bones. We were meant to be together. I really liked him. I could have loved him. I know he felt it, too. How could he not? Was I crazy? Because there is no way that these feelings weren't true. But then again, why should anything good happen to me. I need to explain to him that I was too nervous to be myself around him, that I really liked him and wanted so badly for him to like me, too. Luckily, I would rarely act on those emotions, though I do admit that an email or two has been sent expressing those exact emotions. Yes, feel sad for me. I do when I think back on it all.
Because of all of that, the whirlwind of emotions, the ups and downs of dating, the wondering and questioning and waiting for what felt like forever to see what would happen next, I am happy to be done with it. I never wanted to date. Saying that upset people, but I never felt comfortable in that environment. But without dating, without putting yourself out there, then how do you meet someone? During this time of my life, I thought the nausea, the uncertainty was a sign of something that was right. It was the extremeness of the emotions, the potential of LOVE, that made me sick to my stomach, right? But I was wrong about that, too. Because when I met my now-husband, who was at one point just my friend, I didn't feel sick. I felt comfortable. I felt like myself. And he liked me because of it.
The worst for me was when I really, really liked a guy. I would be too nervous to even have a normal conversation with the guy during our time together. I'd be too nervous... Wanting so badly to show him who I was, how cool I could be, but too uncomfortable with my like for him to be able to do that. To compound the problem, when I really liked a guy I would envision us together, plan the wedding, decorate the apartment, all before we even knew each other's middle names.
And then, in the midst of my future visions, after the date was over, when I was hoping he would call, I would become overcome with second-guessing every move, every word spoken, wondering if he truly liked me, too. Then I would go into a frenzy... Should I call him? Why hasn't he called me? I'm a grown-up. I should be able to call him and tell him how I feel and get this thing over with if he doesn't feel the same way. No matter how many friends told me not to do it, I would convince myself that it was the right thing to do. He, naturally, would be scared off, never to call again. It was my self-fulfilling prophecy and I repeated it over and over again.
Then the despair would set in. I felt in in my bones. We were meant to be together. I really liked him. I could have loved him. I know he felt it, too. How could he not? Was I crazy? Because there is no way that these feelings weren't true. But then again, why should anything good happen to me. I need to explain to him that I was too nervous to be myself around him, that I really liked him and wanted so badly for him to like me, too. Luckily, I would rarely act on those emotions, though I do admit that an email or two has been sent expressing those exact emotions. Yes, feel sad for me. I do when I think back on it all.
Because of all of that, the whirlwind of emotions, the ups and downs of dating, the wondering and questioning and waiting for what felt like forever to see what would happen next, I am happy to be done with it. I never wanted to date. Saying that upset people, but I never felt comfortable in that environment. But without dating, without putting yourself out there, then how do you meet someone? During this time of my life, I thought the nausea, the uncertainty was a sign of something that was right. It was the extremeness of the emotions, the potential of LOVE, that made me sick to my stomach, right? But I was wrong about that, too. Because when I met my now-husband, who was at one point just my friend, I didn't feel sick. I felt comfortable. I felt like myself. And he liked me because of it.
posted by Tracy at 8:54 AM
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