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I’ve had this blog for a few months short of two years, which is saying a lot for me. I can’t remember writing the first post that I wrote on here, but I can remember cringing at it a year ago thinking, “god, I’m awkward.” I remember how the formation of this blog fit into my life and, of course, I remember the particular circumstances of my relationships at the time.
I had just broken up with Country, a relationship that neither of us were really comfortable with but I stayed in for the intrigue. As I’ve mentioned before, Country and I had zilch in common. But waking up at place on the bay, climbing from bed to let my new puppy out onto the grass to pee, having him wrap a blanket around both of our shoulders as we looked out onto the fog over the water. It was a relationship so wrong for me, one that had been protested by my friends to a point where many of them ostracized me. My friend FaveDave had a different view on it: a few days after the break up, he harshly critiqued me on romantic needs. He said that not only did I always have a need to be in a relationship, but that I always had a need to be in one that had twinge of drama. I was so hurt that day, and I remember that this blog was conceived in the wake of that speech as a way for me to commiserate.
I’d like to say that it didn’t take two years for FaveDave’s words to settle in. I wouldn’t say that his first statement was true; in fact I rather much prefer times of being single. But the latter is right on target. I’ll be open about this: in the past I’ve dated lecturing professors and coaches at my college, my engaged -and now married- boss (remember that debacle?). I’ve been in love with the same guy for the past five years because of how horrible it is; the more my friends grow to hate him, the more I want to be with him. The less he cares for me, the more I care for him. Part of me even stretches to think that the real reason I stayed with Pittsburgh Boy for so long was because the distance added the dramatic flair to an otherwise normal relationship.
So I guess this is why my friends rolled their eyes at the latest one. I guess it’s also why I’ve been hesitant to write about it, knowing that my readers veer on the intelligent and highly observant side. I’ve been struggling to determine whether this is an actual thing for me, or whether it’s just because there’s intrigue. And in that same sense, it’s not ever going to happen. Because he has a girlfriend.
I met the kid in class. I think I’ve had other classes with him before but I really only remember him from this one. Physically he’s my “type”, if I ever were to have a type. He’s handsome, but probably not someone that other girls would look at for more than a brief moment. I don’t even know what the draw is for me- maybe the fact that he’s brilliant and directed towards the same field that I am. Or the fact that he’s fluent in language that I hardly knew existed prior to him telling me. And the way he became fluent? Was by doing volunteer work with the country. We went through a week of spending almost night hanging out and it was on the verge of painful.
Here’s where it links back to my need for things I can’t have: the guy is upstanding and has never, ever given me the impression that anything would ever happen. Don’t get me wrong- I learned my lesson last year and would never push for something with someone in a relationship. But the more I pushed it out of my head, the harder it fought to get back in. It’s been this delicate, unspoken tango that culminated the other day in me, in drunken stupor, telling him.
I think this whole thing could have been chopped down into a few short statements: Caitlyn meets Perfect Guy. Caitlyn falls for Perfect Guy, finds out he has girlfriend. Caitlyn tries to ignore, becomes obsessed. Rejection ensues.
I gotta say, I’ve never been so disappointed in California. I’m sure all of you know by now that in this past weeks election the state of California had several propositions to vote upon that have made national headlines. The most prominent of them was Proposition 8, which would reverse a Supreme Court ruling from May allowing gay couples the right to wed. On the same ballot where Californians voted for higher animal rights, over 52 percent voted to ban gay marriage.
My uncles were married a few years ago; almost immediately after Oregon announced the allowance of gay marriage my uncle bought to plane tickets and flew them out there. None of our family knew, though I remember shrieking with excitement when I found out that they had married. My uncles had been together over 20 years at that point, long enough that I had barely been alive when they met. In the email announcement following their marriage, my uncle joked that they had told an antiques dealer that they were getting married. “Why would you guys want marriage?” he asked, adding, “Believe me, you’re going to want to give that right back after your husband starts nagging.”
My uncle also made an amazing point in his email, one I’ve heard reiterated throughout this week: we’re not allowing a large portion of the country the rights to a basic civil liberty. We have a country based off of equal rights and equal abilities for all citizens. We even have liberties alotted to illegal immigrants. We just voted in the first black man to presidency. And yet gay marriage is something that we struggle with every single day.
How can people still deny homosexuality, calling it a phase or an abomination? I’m sick of hearing “…but the Bible says” or the ever-popular “it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” If people are still living the Bible line by line, they have plenty of other issues to consider first. In a quick side-rant, I have an associate who is probably the best example of the anti-Christian. She drinks, curses, smokes, has a bit more than her fair share of premarital sex. And yet she resorts back to the Bible regarding gay marriage, spouting that God hadn’t intended for gay marriage because their bodies don’t “fit”.
Years from now we’ll look back on this and wonder what we were thinking. Our grandchildren will want to know how we though that homosexuality was different, how we thought that we were able to stop love by banning the religious union. I still laugh at my crazy racist grandmother for having thought that the color of one’s skin determined their character.
I’m going to bring this down to the most general idea that I have regarding gay marriage and heterosexual marriage: when you parse out the infamous images of politicians having gay relationships, or of pop stars and drunken college girls at frat parties making out, you see that they’re based upon the essential foundation of love. Gay couples fall in love, they fall out of love. They cheat and they break up; they make out on dates and care for each other when their partner is sick. They buy gifts for each other, they write songs for their lover. They love.
This week I was made lead analyst on the largest case in our corporation, which is going to be a huge undertaking. On top of that (I don’t know if ya’ll heard) but the PHILLIES WON THE WORLD SERIES! I specifically chose not to write about it during the series because I get into the whole superstition bit- last year I wrote about it and on the very same night they lost a game. Call me crazy (I am), but I couldn’t jinx it.
So to end that happy mass, today is the election. I’ve been up since 5 am with all of my info packed. I’m wearing my white J.Crew button down tucked into my red wool J.Crew a-line skirt with blue pumps. So I know I don’t have to tell all of you smart blog-land people, but get out and vote! Regardless of who you’re voting for, wait in the lines. Oh, and if you’re the rare California reader- no on Prop 8!