Too Good to be True? - Part Two

 

I wasn't sure if he'd call. Even though I had supposedly ended it, I still wanted to see him. I didn't want for it to be over. As much as I rationally knew I had to get over him and move onward, emotionally it was a different story. I was soon to find out how easy it was for emotions to take over rational behavior....

He called me after two days (the scant amount of time we lasted cut off from each other). We had a two-hour conversation -- oh, it was good to talk to him. During this conversation, he read me the contents of a postcard he wrote, but hadn't yet mailed, on the tear-filled Sunday we broke up. It read as follows:

Dearest Laura,

Today surely has been one of the saddest days in my entire existence, but it was also one of the most beautiful. Spending the night into morning with you was exquisite. You are exquisite. Your eyes, your touch, your loving open heart. You are love in being and in form, and I love you and cherish the time we have been together like no other time I've known. And I always will.

I believe we are earth angels for each other. I know you are one for me and I pray that in being honest with you, I am one for you. We are something special for each other and with each other. I want to know you and have you in my life, but I realize this could be difficult. I know I have made you sad and I can't tell you how that pains me, to my very deepest soul.

 

Supposedly we would be friends. We made plans to do some benign shopping the following Saturday afternoon. When he arrived at my apartment, we didn't kiss or touch or anything. Instead, we politely chatted for around 45 minutes.

Then I sat down next to him to change the CD. He asked what my new, short haircut looked like at the back of my neck (it was hidden by my shirt's collar). I leaned slightly forward, and dropped my chin down, so he could see the back of my neck. He put his hand on the back of it, and began to smooth down the hair at my neckline. I was a goner from that very moment -- we soon found each other in an emotional embrace, and the "just friends" idea was quickly tossed by the wayside.

When he left my apartment the next morning, I was in a pleasant daze. We had talked about our situation, and I said I wanted to continue to see him (granted, on his non-committing terms), despite knowing that imminent danger, caused by his fear of commitment, lurked in the distance. My rationale was: "I have a great time whenever I see him, and I want more of those great times. I know my heart may be crushed in the future, but I don't care now -- if it happens, I'll deal with it then." He was happy about continuing to see me, because he never wanted things to end in the first place. So we resumed seeing each other.

A good friend of mine knew our situation from the beginning, and said to me, "When you go out with him, hold hands, and act like a couple, you're not -- he's only your 'pretend boyfriend.' Is that what you want, a pretend boyfriend?" One night while we were out listening to music at The Bottom Line, and when I was sitting on the edge of his chair, his arms wrapped tightly around me, I remembered what my friend had said. I thought to myself, "This seems so great, but deep down it's not. He's only my pretend boyfriend. I want a real boyfriend. I want to have a future with someone, and chances are it won't be with him..."

He called me often, but we didn't see each other that much -- weekends were still the only possible time, due to his "busy, draining weekday schedule." Once again, I waited all week for Friday. Friday would come and we'd have a fantastic weekend together (or part of it), and then it'd be over, and I was back to waiting until Friday again. I never felt satisfied with our situation. I always felt I wanted more -- more time with him.

One weekend we were together, at around three o'clock on Sunday afternoon, he asked, "Are you almost ready for me to drive you home?" I said, "But do you know what day it is?" (I was off on Monday because it was Presidents' Day.) "Oh, tomorrow's Presidents' Day! Do you have off?" "Yes, I do. So do I still have to go home?" I asked with a pout.

He said yes, I did have to go home -- he needed Sunday night to be alone, and "prepare" for the week. My feelings were hurt. Here we have the opportunity to spend some more precious time together, and he wants to be alone? But he has all week to be alone... I knew he very much enjoyed spending time with me, yet it puzzled me why he didn't want to see me more. Time with him was a priority for me, yet it seemed time with me wasn't a priority for him. The imbalance in our relationship began to expose itself.

And then: A Friday was approaching, and of course I was looking forward to it. He called on Thursday, and said he wanted to go out with a buddy on Friday night. He asked if we could get together on Saturday instead. I didn't realize how upset this made me until I got off the phone, and sat with my feelings for a bit. I thought, "How much of a priority could I possibly be, if he'd choose to shoot the shit with his buddy on Friday night, rather than see me, after not having seen me all week?" It's not like the two of them wouldn't have any time to hang out, because in less than a week, they were going on a five-day trip together.

But what right did I have to complain or whine? I realized that's just it -- I have no rights here. In a non-committed relationship, you don't have rights. Both parties can do whatever they want, whenever they want, and the other person can't say much -- that's what "non-committed" means. Well, I want my rights in a relationship. I want committed. I called him back and said, "This isn't working for me anymore."

If I hadn't tried the relationship a second time, I would have been left thinking I had to leave him because he was a consummate cheater. But in seeing him again, and getting to know him more, a different reason seems to have surfaced. I now think timing is the reason he didn't want to commit, not his fear of potentially cheating on me and breaking my heart. He told me when we first met that only four months before, he broke up with a girl he had been with for four years. I responded, "You broke up only four months ago, and you were going out for four years? That's not a very long time to get over things! Are you SURE you're ready to be with someone else?" "Oh, yes -- I'm ready, definitely. Even though we broke up only four months ago, emotionally, it's been over for more than a year."

At the time, I accepted this statement. I figured he knew how felt. Well, it turns out he didn't know -- he thought he was ready, but he wasn't. No matter how much he enjoyed spending time with me, nothing is more valuable to him than his new-found freedom.

Breakup number two -- drats! After a string of bad boyfriends, here I finally find someone I'm crazy about, who feels a similar way about me, yet despite this, he doesn't want to have girlfriend at this time. So I'm back to square one: no boyfriend.

He knows I want to be in a committed relationship, and I will start looking around for someone else. We decided we'll still see each other until I meet someone else. But I do have my moral dilemmas about this -- I've always thought it's not a good policy to try to meet someone new while still involved. I guess you can say (and I won't deny it) that I'm being a hypocrite to my own beliefs. Who knows? Not me -- I'll just have to see how things go, and hope I don't get too distressed with the notion of having to be casual with someone I still have strong feelings for.

I've certainly learned from my experiences here that ideas about commitment have to coincide for a relationship to work. Important qualities such as personality and mutual attraction only go so far if both people don't have the same feelings regarding commitment.

Someday, with someone, it will all fall into place for me. I look forward to that day.

 

Part Three (the conclusion)