Learning | Experience (#8–Revelation)

I woke up this morning to a curious sensation: I was out of words.

Strange, that.

You get used to things bouncing around your head that you can’t get rid of. I usually have a few things that I cycle through, but there’s been one situation in particular that’s been fermenting for a month. Things I wanted to know, things I wanted to say. To ask, to investigate, to clarify. Everything that I said in #7, basically. I can’t escape my own thoughts, and I certainly can’t control them. I just have to live with them.

That being said, here’s one you may or may not have seen coming, that I’m just going to get out of the way early so I don’t have to wrench it in later:

8. I have an imperative to explore and express my feelings.

No shit.

Honestly, I never really put the numbers together in my head, and realized what an exigency it is for me to express myself. My muse has always been romantic angst; when I cannot express myself to someone, I turn to poetry and prose. I always viewed it as the need to express my pain, but that was really selling it short. I need to express my feelings, period. I’ve noticed this in all areas of my life, from work to online gaming to relationships.

I have high standards and expectations (#7 again), and occasionally, life actually fulfills them. For some, this happens all the time. In my experience, it’s somewhat rare. Usually there are more hairpin turns than straightaways, more thunderstorms than clear skies, clouding my outlook and making each successive curve potentially more dangerous than the one before. Over the last year I’ve become a lot more comfortable with properly assaying blame, instead of beating myself up for making mistakes, for being human. I’ll always be a perfectionist who’s obsessed with what other people think of him, sure. But I learned something very important: To forgive myself. Sounds simple, of course. If you can do it, all power to you. Hold onto that, never surrender it.

One thing I still struggle with, however, is trusting myself. I am a ridiculously logical and objective person in all areas of my life, except for the most important one: relationships. I trust my intuition, but I don’t trust my feelings. I don’t trust my ability to not fuck things up. I don’t trust my perceptions, my view of the world, because I know it goes through a filter that colors it with seven shades of idealism and hyperbole. I have been wrong; I have been mistaken. I have invested in phantoms, and I have fallen in love with illusion. I have been misled, I have been betrayed, I have been manipulated, I have been made a fool of. For every ill I have caused a person, I have had seven visited on me in return.

It’s no wonder I have some trust issues, that I’m never entirely sure I’m accurately judging another person’s intentions or hopes. I need affirmation, confirmation that I’m not crazy. It’s a strange sort of insecurity, this self-doubt. It’s not that I doubt my abilities, my traits, my worth. I can go on and on (and have) about how awesome I am, as my poor readership is well aware. But other people? So many times I’ve believed in the light in their eyes rather than the shadow. And that makes me very wary of placing my trust in people. I’m idealistic enough that I extend the hand. But then I watch. I observe, measure, and analyze. I prod things a bit. I test and evaluate. And if you don’t pass the test, I shut you off. I pull down the shades, I lock the doors, I kick you out of the goddamn castle, because no matter who it is, I can live without them. I refuse to fall prey to misperceptions. I will not be in those types of relationships again, period. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong, just chalk it up to another failure on my part, I’ll lick my wounds in private for awhile, then move the fuck on.

For the last few months, I’ve been reveling in a geyser of attention from a woman who means a lot to me–an unavailable woman. I’ve referred to it previously as not-dating, and anyone who’s been privy to my innermost thoughts, particularly Adam in the last few weeks, knows that I’ve felt that Susan and I were reaching the point where we’d need to have a serious conversation about it.  If I was a tea kettle, the water was a-boilin’, and I was going to have to whistle soon. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible for me to restrain myself in the long run. At some point, I need an outlet, or I become incredibly anxious and withdrawn. I used to keep my emotions tightly under wraps, almost unable to express myself comfortably at all. I’m still uncomfortable with it in some regards–because putting oneself out there on uncertain footing is never enjoyable–but I strap it on and go to work. Then I don’t go to place that aren’t healthy. It’s ridiculously easy and often tempting to simply shovel things under the carpet and shuffle away from confrontation like a coward. Naw. Screw that. I’m at the point in my life where I’m just going to say what I think, and if the other person is unworthy of that, fuck ’em. What’s worth more, keeping the peace, or having an honest and genuine appraisal of the people in your life, what you mean to them and what they mean to you? That’s gold right there, son.

Because of this guarded vigilance, it’s pretty surprising when you find something that’s actually correct. True. Valid. When it works out as you both hoped and anticipated. Because honestly, I’m not used to that.

Every relationship has its own mandate. It flows in a certain direction. This is to a large extent beyond our control, because it’s dependent upon who we are, which isn’t always who we think we are or who we wish we were. There are some people you meet and instantly dislike, who push your buttons and drive you insane. They set your teeth on edge. Likewise, there are some people you have an instant affinity with as friend, a natural associate. I have a number of both of these, and admittedly enjoy my popularity.

There are others still that are more the extreme; people you meet and instantly adore. That fascinate you. That compel you to draw closer to them, to learn more about them, to KNOW them.  We’ve all been there. Seriously. I don’t think any of us would be human if we hadn’t. As much as we can fool ourselves into thinking we’re directing it, we aren’t. We are caught up in the tide, in the ebbs of emotion that direct so much of our course. Too often people are swept away by the undertow, surrendering themselves regardless of the danger to themselves or others. This can be very passionate and romantic. It isn’t always wise. Unfortunately we don’t always fall for people that are worthy of our attentions. We can’t help feeling what we feel. All we can do is choose what to do with it.

With effort and dedication, two people can dam even the most tempestuous river. Redirect it. Convert the overwhelming raw force into something positive and beneficial. It takes both to do this successfully. If one person tries to dam and the other insists upon flow, there is friction, conflict, stress. There is misinterpretation and confusion, there are hurt feelings and long silences. Both people need to be working towards the same objective, with the same goal in mind, to make certain situations work, or else it’s going to be a mess.

This is why communication is key.In the event of conflicting desires, people need to work together to define their expectations and desires. They need to be on the same page. That’s the conversation Susan and I needed to have, I felt. To clear the air, to make sure this didn’t turn sour, to make sure we were honest and treating all three right–Me, Her, and Us. To affirm that we’re working together to ensure a positive result for our future.

Yeah, I’m all about the sound bites.

My mandate for the last few months has been thus:  Explore my relationship with Susan and facilitate it towards the direction it is naturally inclined. Treat myself right, treat her right, and most of all, ensure that I don’t lose her from my life.

Mission accomplished. Last night, we talked.

This is our story.

You know how we began, because I mentioned it a little while ago. To save myself the retyping, I’ll just paste it:

When I met her a year ago, the very first day we interacted, in the middle of the fallout from Barrett, I said to myself, "Wow, there’s a woman I would like to date." I talked about her to Heather the next day with wonder in my voice. Susan sort of redeemed womankind all on her own, which seems foolish I’m sure, but is nothing short of the truth. Feeling that connection (which has proven true) made me realize that what I was going through with Barrett wasn’t the end of the world, that there were others out there for me, that happiness maybe wasn’t going to pass me by, that the universe would provide.

I’m sure she takes some perverse glee (though she might not admit it) in being The Redeemer. That’s fine, she’s earned it.

So we met once when I was subbing at her branch, and she blew me away. By our first conversation, I was impressed, and my intuition told me: She’s special. You have a bond. I was disappointed to find out that she had a boyfriend (overhearing her telling someone else, if I recall), but I wasn’t in a place to be dating anyone anyway. She was the embodiment of potential, a gift from the fates. I was likewise disappointed when I only worked with her once more, briefly (for like an hour) before she disappeared into the ether. She was hired at another branch that was far out of my roaming range at the time.

I saw her twice more in passing; once at my home library, and once when she came by to visit everybody at her old haunt. Both time we chit-chatted, and I remember being particularly pleased that she remembered me and enjoyed the fact that I remembered her and asked about her new job and how it was going. Then, many months passed, and to be honest, I forgot about her.

I don’t mean that I didn’t realize she existed, just that she only existed as a phantom that would occasionally flit past my thoughts. I’ve met more than a few people who instantly impact me, and I think, "if only we could spend time together." However, it never entered my mind that our paths would cross again.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, when we did re-meet. I instantly recognized her, though she didn’t remember me as vividly. I’d dropped a large amount of weight and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t as mopey and miserable as I was when she met me mid-breakup; the difference between a light that shines and a light subdued is pretty significant.

Of course, this was an amazing coincidence. I have been in two substitute positions (circulation and reference). On my first day at each of them, I worked with Susan, who took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. We picked up right where we left off, and got along very well. When I worked there again a few days later, we spent the majority of our time bonding and laying the foundation for Michaelandsusanville. In what would become our hallmark–communication–we talked pretty much nonstop for the entire six hours, sharing ourselves, having lunch together, laughing and learning. If everything else was just the previews, the film had finally begun.

"I’ve never really dated," she once said to me. "I just sort of fall into people."

Yup. I was hooked.

I didn’t know if she still had a boyfriend. Intrigued after Bonding Day, I was ready to pursue her if she was still single–and I was fairly confident I’d be successful, which is fairly odd for me. The next time we worked, however, she mentioned him, and my hopes were dashed. A couple of things that she said stuck in my mind, though, when she said she had resisted moving in with him even though he wanted to, and a phrase and which she later didn’t even remember saying: "I’m not going to marry him."

I’m sure you can envision how that phrase would lodge itself in my brain for months to come. This conversation instilled me with the impression that she wasn’t quite into him, and that perhaps he was a boyfriend-of-the-moment rather than a husband-of-the-future. Perhaps the relationship was on the rocks, perhaps she wasn’t happy, perhaps she was unfulfilled. Perhaps it had run its course, and it was time for a new one to arise from the ashes.

This was somewhat dangerous, for it gave me hope. However, since I am cautious, I decided to simply bide my time, and see where things led. We worked together a few times and the conversations continued right where they left off. It wasn’t hard for my crush to develop.
 
Even then, we had a spontaneous comprehension. That’s the term I like to use to describe us, as it fits perfectly. We have a knack for thinking along the same wavelengths, which has only grown with familiarity.  We had a strong sense of one another from the start; we trusted fast, though we guarded our emotions for awhile. We were wary. If you’ve ever seen Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, there’s a scene where the two opposing vessels, the Reliant and the Enterprise, are both circling the Genesis planet. Neither of them can catch each other; both are the hunter, and both are the prey. Despite our affinity, we were gradual about any emotional involvement. After all, we’re both the types to prod and poke until we know something is safe to approach.

(It’s strange being around someone whose expressions you innately know; their looks, tells, gestures. We can obfuscate, but I don’t really think we conceal well, and after our discussion last night revealed how much awareness we both have of each other, it seems as if we can’t really hide much, if anything, in terms of reaction and emotion.)

She surprised me in early September with some details about work that were fairly private, going out of her way to share some things with me that she probably shouldn’t have.  I was surprised that she was willing to put herself out there with me. I laugh at remembering our first phone call. Our conversation was ridiculously short, almost comical in how perfunctory it was, as if we were both consciously aware that we’d entered new ground here, that this outside-of-work, loyalty-to-each-other thing was fuckin weird and we weren’t quite sure what we were supposed to do with ourselves.  Still, with our sporadic time together our comprehension grew into a strong mutual regard.

Then, the unthinkable occurred: She was traveling to Spain for two and a half weeks, and because of the way my shifts were linedup, I wasn’t going to work with her for an entire month. Now, I couldn’t get her out of my damn head. If we had six hours of conversation, I wanted seven. If we had ten, I wanted twelve. The give-and-take of our conversations is remarkable. It’s not one-sided; we’re actually interested in each other, and often find ourselves in places we didn’t intend to go. Many months later, we both know deep, dark secrets that no one else does, yet it’s never seemed anything but natural to reveal them. It’s a purity of trust that (obviously) I find remarkable.

I was unhappy that it would be so long until we worked together. I wanted to continue building our friendship. You may have heard somewhere that I’m something of an aggressor in relationships, and that despite my general shyness, I can be pretty bold when the connection is established. After debating about it for a few hours, I sent her an email on 9/27, a rather corny one, essentially saying, "Let’s be friends." I couched it in what I felt were innocuous terms. I wasn’t insincere–never that–but I didn’t want to make it seem like I was trying to ask her out on a date, and I was afraid she’d interpret it that way and show me the hand. On some level, I’m sure I was, but I focused on how I missed having people to do stuff with and don’t have any friends and carefully avoided romantic overtones. Really, it was probably sort of pathetic (in a cute way), but it worked. I was prepared for rejection, but I was really hoping she would see the potential friendship we had and want to develop it.

You know what I expected? A "sure, maybe we can hang out sometime." A vague promise that wouldn’t be fulfilled, another case of more-into-her-than-she-is-into-me. Instead, lo and behold, she was pleasant, friendly, and immediately invited me to do something. Trivia? At a bar? With a group of strangers? Well, ok, I’m willing to give it a shot.

I was taken aback by my own success. Even moreso when the next night she called me to invite me to dinner with her and Raina, another librarian pal of hers. Wow! Immediate dividends! This is pretty cool. Now, at this point in time I was playing Everquest pretty frequently, because I didn’t have a social life. I actually logged off immediately, feigning a power outage, so that I didn’t even have to say goodbye. It was like, "Time with Susan? /quit"

Amount of times I’ve done that for anyone: Zero.

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