Part of the problem being, I'm just going to come out and say it, I have a new boyfriend.
I've got this problem where if I feel there's something I'm supposed to address, it's like I can't write anything until I've finally banged it out. So here it is. I have a new boyfriend.
His blog alias is going to be Solo & you may remember him from last month's Wild Wild West post (then again, you may not. But trust me, that post did happen, he was in it, etc).
I guess something I've been grappling with is that I don't want to seem fickle; how long ago was it really that I was posting about Mr. Flintstone?
From my own overly judgmental perspective, in the past I've been quick to mock people who claim that they're in love, break up, and one month later have found a new partner who they're crazy about. But this is exactly what I've done. It's funny to find the shoe on the other foot (I don't even know if that's a real expression; I'm like that Nazi from Inglourious Basterds who can't get all his American foot euphemisms correct) & wonder whether people will judge me as harshly as I've judged others in the past.
So here's my disclaimer: I don't want to devalue my past relationships, Mr. Flintstone & I's included. I took so much away from every romantic fiasco to which I've been a party. Specifically, in Mr. Flintstone & I's relationship, I learned a lot about patience, about cultivating and maintaining separate identities despite being in a relationship, and a lot about knowing when a relationship has gone bad or died; sometimes, our relationship resembled a chapter of He's Just Not that Into You. On that last topic, I'd like to say that when you read relationship advice that is completely rational but still manages to derail you, something is wrong. When you go to books, magazines, or those ridiculous yahoo & msn articles for relationship advice, in general, something is wrong.
& though I'm uncomfortable talking about one relationship against the back-drop of another (I don't want this to read like a comparison) I will say: Solo happened by surprise. He came to San Antonio on a random Sunday & (as old acquaintances from Texas A&M) I showed him around (because the person he was really in town to see was busy). We had shaved fruit, he let me get him lost on the river walk for hours, we sat on bank rooftops and looked at all the late night lights of downtown San Antonio.
& that, by the way, is his very manly back.Up there on that roof top, in the middle of some inane and ordinary conversation, I looked over at this guy and realized:
(1) He is breath-takingly handsome;
(2) He is incredibly smart and, moreover, witty;
(3) He laughed at all my jokes; &
(4) I was kinda digging him.
& I was lucky because he was digging me, too.
Chuck Palanhiuk once wrote:
“What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.”
There was a point in time when I read these words and felt ambivalent; this sounded beautifully romantic to me but at the same time sort of terrible...no, actually terrible. I never really wanted this for myself at all.
Solo is someone who gets under my skin in the best ways & while I can't say that we're immersed in mutual addiction, I will say it's a likely possibility that we'll get there. I find this thrilling.