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.