February 15th, 2018

Charah coffee

Sucker-Punched By Life?

Once again, I didn't manage to meet Thomas, but he provided enough explanations and apologised sufficiently such that our missing each other again doesn't matter, not even the fact that I'd just sat around tonight waiting for him to confirm whether we were meeting at 8.30pm or 9pm.

This perhaps doesn't matter too; I don't presently know. But the reason he couldn't meet me tonight, apart from some crisis at work, was because he found out today he's being forced to relocate to somewhere in the US - and he has to leave in September. He was in a bad mood because of that and everything else that went on at work. I am going to sound utterly self-indulgent but fuck it, it's my Livejournal and I will make it all about myself if I want to.

I mean...I just can't believe it. I meet someone that I like enough to literally sit around to wait for him to text and he's leaving in a few months. I meet someone for whom I have been forcing myself to be patient for the past week and he's leaving in a few months. I just can't catch a break, can I? There are no words that I can use that would even hope to remotely capture just how bloody difficult it has been for me, trying this patience business, containing this urge inside me that wants answers, and now, this feeling as if I could burst into flames if I don't see him and tell him all the things that I want to say to him, this crying out for an instant gratification to quench my thirst as I lay stranded in the middle of the desert. That is how counter-intuitive the concept and practice of patience is to me.

Granted, a significant part of it was motivated by my contrition; but why would I have bothered if I hadn't wanted to explain and hope that he'd understand why I went off the way I did so that we could hopefully move past it? This is the bottom line: I like him and I want to keep seeing him. But he's leaving in September.

I can't - I don't even know - and what is he thinking? His impending departure aside, was he even wanting to keep seeing me? How much of that will be changed by this new fact? And me - the hopeless romantic, the disappointed romantic, but a romantic nonetheless: wanting something that I can't have. How do I tell the difference between wanting the idea, being in love with the hopelessness of the situation, and wanting the person? I can't lie and say that his unavailability in the past week hasn't made me want him a little bit more; or at least, it has increased my sense of urgency. Why does my brain, or whatever controls these impulses, play games with me like that?

The most important thing is to stay rational. Weigh up the facts. Don't get swept away again by the potentiality of a grand romance, driven entirely by its deadend-ness. And of course, talk to him.

But just - why? Fucking hell, why? I wanted someone solid and reliable, and here he was, the strong, silent, confident type - and first I messed it up by going off on him and telling him that it was over, and now life seems to be getting in the way. I'm just not built for this, am I? This dating business, relationships. My life is as transitory as so many lives here in Cambridge, and these men that have passed in and out of my life like a set of revolving doors have only managed to stop for tea.

But let's dial this back a bit. Let's be rational. I'd only gone out with Thomas four times. I've only known him for a couple of weeks. Nobody was planning a wedding, and it was almost over because of me.

Then again, allow me to indulge in irrationality for a moment. I read back the text message that I sent him which essentially retracted my 'this is over' message. In it, I said that I had literally never kissed someone on the first date because I'm usually not sufficiently attracted to someone after a few hours to want him to kiss me. I realised today that it wasn't true; I'd forgotten that I'd kissed Wouter at the end of our first date, and that I was already smitten even before he'd taken the train back to Amsterdam and left me swooning like a fool all the way back to my Malakkastraat (?) room in The Hague.

But Wouter went on to become the second guy that I'd ever really truly loved. That's not bad company for Thomas to keep, is it?

Of course, all this is nonsense. I'm basically implying that, just because I liked Thomas enough not to be grossed out when he kissed me at the end of our first date and that I came back a bit smitten, he's going to be the next big love of my life. Right. I have mentioned that I'm a hopeless romantic, right? It's tough balancing this cheesy sentimental/emotional side of me with my assiduously trained rationality, but I need the latter to keep some semblance of sanity in my life. It is important that I do not let my love for stories and drama lead me astray.

Speaking of stories and drama - I do NOT want to buy John lunch on Monday, so I am going to try and write more of that story that I've been writing for what feels like ages now. I promised - pinky promised - to buy him lunch on Monday if I still can't and/or haven't finished it, so...I shall keep on trying. But bloody hell, it's hard.