Nineteen oh one...

Hit another wall.

No, not in my car. I'm not prone to ramming inanimate objects with my vehicle.

I want to write, I want to think with the keyboard and have the discussions that are featured here with myself, but something seems to be causing a sort of muffled internal monologue that isn't translating well to actually figuring out what is going on.

Called GV8 three times yesterday, once on my way into work, once on my way home from work, and once right after the second one because I had to check something.

We just talked. Just... conversation. Surface, trival stuff. I had been worried previously that we would not be able to do that, just talk about the most commonplace stuff. You know "conversation". Talking for the sake of talking, for the company of the person on the other end of the phone. Talking without purpose, without trying to communicate information about yourself to the other.

And we did it for awhile.

He also, without realizing it, addressed my general hatred of the beta-boy routine he goes into in most social situations. We were talking about... gods, I don't know. And he mentioned the act he puts on for people, how he shifts gears in social situations in order to make other people comfortable because they would not be comfortable with him acting himself.

I had not realized that's why he did it.

And I was mildly unsure if he knew that he did, indeed, do it.

It still bothers me, I will admit. It likely will for awhile. First, I don't find it attractive. Second, if I'm to be dating a man who is nearly two decades older than me, and he acts, in public like something everyone knows I would never find attractive, it's going to look like I'm after him for his money. And the people who actually know me, who know that I don't care overmuch about the money, are going to wonder why I'm with someone so different than my usual type. I like representing myself well, being represented well by my partner selection, being proud to be with them.

And I am proud... ah, am I proud? Shoot. Well, my brain just came to a screeching, discordant halt.

When he's being himself, when he's truly opening up to me, when he's revealing all those pieces of himself he hides even when we're alone together, I am thrilled, I am happy, to be with him. Proud? I'm not much one for being proud to be with another person.

But those other times, when he's doing the song and dance, I continue to cringe, wishing that man I know that he seems so often to hide from others in so many different ways, would be with me all the time. I want to feel like we're running alongside each other, a complimentary team.

We're seeing each other on Sunday. I've decided to take tonight and tomorrow to catch up on needed sleep, on homework, on bookwork, on organizing life-stuff. I was hoping to spend more time with him this weekend, but his complaint that I am always tired (accurate) means that I need to sacrifice quantity of time with quality of time.

So I get an afternoon.

Sigh.

I invited him to meet my parents, you know. Saturday, we're going to a little festival and his complaint that I hide him from them (accurate) caused me to speak to them about inviting him to it. And they were actually okay with that. It was the last thing I was expecting, especially since when both of them discovered our age gap, both separately lectured me about how he was too old for me and what the hell was I thinking?

But he turned me down. Said that with everything going on between us, not certain of where we are going, it probably wasn't the best idea.

True. But... I tried.

I feel like a little girl, scrabbling about for a solution.

I'm trying to do this right.

And maybe I should just give up. This isn't the best time for this, and I can't afford the emotional distraction from this in my work or education.

But how much am I supposed to let pass me by?

Just because it's inconvenient? Just because I'm incredibly insecure about so many things and this could just make it worse? So it's easier to run away than to risk being rejected for who I am instead of who I thought he wanted me to be or, rather, what I thought would cause him to want me, to want me to stick around, to want more from me than casual sex?

Fear is a big motivator.

Not just for me.

Fear of being hurt. Fear that every horrible thing you've ever thought about yourself might be true. Fear that every self-doubt was truly self-knowledge disguised with the light of hope or just blind ignorance. Fear that every insult that has been tossed your way was correct. Fear that you're unlovable, that you're unforgivable, that you're horrible, that everything you ever will attempt will fail.

It's easier to hide, easier to not try and rationalize it in a way that you can accept and that you can convince others to accept. If you're good, and most of us are, you can do it so smoothly you don't realize that you're even covering these thoughts up. You live a rationalized reality.

Personally, I'm terrified.

I'd like to say that I'm only afraid but, really, that would just be me trying to convince myself that this bone-vibrating fear isn't as bad as I would wish it to be. That I would, like most things in my life, dissociate myself from the emotion to the point where the experience is simply an echo of what I do not allow myself to feel.

But part of this, part of all of this, is acknowledging.

It's about digging up the mounds of earth that I have buried all my fears and hurts in and examining the fossils that shape the landscape of the person I am now.

Maybe it won't do any good.

I mean, I've been doing this for years. I have writing scattered across the internet, essays and blogs floating around for the last decade. And people always tell me how self-aware I am, how in tune with myself I am, how courageous or honest, brutal and revealing, how knowledgable, mature, whatever.

It doesn't feel like that to me.

I know that, compared to the average person, I do examine myself thoroughly. I try to be aware of myself as much as I can, but I certainly fail more often than not.

I mean, it should be fairly obvious to even the most unaware person that if you are dating one person, hoping for more, and you continue to see other people, that shows you have a lack of true interest in that one particular person.

You think that would be obvious.

But here I was thinking that it would make him want me more, that I would be more of a chase, because so damn many PUA men online have said that I'm a horrible slut, horrible human being, I need to become a born-again virgin because no decent man will have me now, it's far too late, but maybe I could settle for a lower middle-class beta loser and become a chubby soccer mom getting her stubby toes polished by a Vietnamese woman on the weekends.

So I play hard to get.
So I say, sure, men find me desirable, and I'm going to continue to enjoy myself with them and that will illustrate that GV8 better get a move on if he wants me because others want me too.

And what's funny is that, this year, I've had sex with five (5!) men, two of them being hold-overs from last year (Hardwood Floors and SFPlayboy), one of them was a crappy one-night stand (Dose), a not-so-crappy one-night stand (Mr. Brush-off), and GV8. Mr. Brush-off was the only man I've had sex with since I met GV8. I have not had the inclination or the true interest to pursue anyone further.

Anyway, I think that was more of a sidetrack than anything.

GV8 still wants me, at least in some capacity, after all of this. After me acting like someone else entirely, someone I wanted to be, but not someone who I was.

And I did learn. I learned how to be stronger, how to hold back, how to not rush into things. These were things I had never been able to conquer before, but I did so with him and I'm proud of myself, in my own way, for being able to do so.

I faced a fear. I faced an insecurity.

And I tackled it, drove it to the ground. It wasn't the smoothest, at least on an emotional level, but I did force myself to face my anxieties.

Now I have to learn how to let go.

Even if GV8 is not the man for me, even if he rejects me, I need to learn how to do this, and I need to learn how to accept this complete rejection.

Because I know I will never be happy, never have that security or sense of self I desire, if I do not learn how to let go. If I never learn to have faith in myself.

I am much better than the girl I used to be, but it is going to take a lot of work to become the woman I know I have in me.