I've realized something today. Something that should have been apparent to me throughout all of my struggles thinking of Sam and whatever the future might hold for us. Sam is 100% in love with me, which I know because she told me, and reminds me of often. I love her, but I am not in love with her. This is why I could never be with her. To commit to someone who is not only not on the same page as you, but is instead on the last chapter of the next book in the series, would be torturous for both people involved. She’d be there waiting for me to fall in love with her, and in return, this would cause me much anxiety and fear. This is what I need to explain to her.
Am I wrong here? Maybe one or some of you have entered into a relationship with someone who you either already loved or was in love with you. I feel that she would end up resenting me for not being able to return her same feelings. She told me that she thinks we could make something work if "we took it slow." To me this is crazy. How exactly do you take things slow with someone you are in love with? I ask myself this but realize that to her that would be better than even the friendship we have now, because at least then she would know that she had me, and that I was indeed hers. I don't have a problem with love (in fact, that’s what I want (need) in my life right now), and I don't have a problem with commitment, but how does one start fresh with an old foundation? Plus with our other fundamental differences, and the fact that we are text-book opposites, which has already made being friends difficult enough. It wouldn’t be fair or right of me to let this happen. I hate myself for letting things end up the way they did on the night of the wedding. My weakness and need for connection overpowered my better judgment, and I screwed that up. With Sam, it's so easy because I've known her for a while now, and I already trust her, and am comfortable with her. More comfortable with her than I am with anyone else, really. But comfort does not establish grounds for building something that can't support itself. Maybe I'm overanalyzing all of this (like I do every other detail of my life). Does anyone else think so? However, I do truly feel this won’t ever work, and I need to tell her this.
Signing out,
-Franklin D. Orren.
A view of the world at a whole new angle. Personal stories, adventures, musings, and life questions. Advice and discussions on love, dating, finding that special person, and learning to be happy without them.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Poorly Plotted Points
I never thought that I would be the type to cry at a wedding, but let me tell you all, I sure as hell got close. I've known the bride since freshman year of high school, and the groom since he was eight. Hell, they met at my old apartment. It was surreal to watch her walk down the aisle. As soon as she stepped out, I felt the familiar pressure of tears forming behind my eyes; I'm pretty sure a few escaped, so luckily I was wearing sunglasses (we were outside for the actual ceremony). Everything was beautiful, especially the bride who looked like a freaking princess. I wish them both a lifetime of love and happiness.
If I remember correctly, I had...let me tally this up:
-1 18 ounce beer
-1 12 ounce beer
-1 round of Rumchata and cinnamon whiskey shots
-1 glass of white wine
-1 girly mixed drink with dinner before the wedding
-2 glasses of champagne
-3 glasses of scotch on the rocks
-4 whiskey and sodas
- I think...7 or 8 gin and tonics. The last of which I know was about 80% full of Beefeater.
I forgot how much I liked gin. For me, it's one of those things I totally forget about unless I see some one else drinking one, and then I get one as well. Anyway, all of those drinks I consumed was just at the wedding. The post-wedding bar I went to is where things get a little hazy, but I think this is right...
- 2 Wild Turkey (101) and cokes
- 1 shot of well tequila
- 1 shot of Jameson
- 2 vodka cranberries.
I promise I'm not making these numbers up. Remember that I'm 6'6" and the amount seems a bit more reasonable. I'm not sure how even I managed to keep all these down (no vomiting, woohoo!) even for me. It was one of those types of drunk where you don't really feel drunk, but you notice your steps aren't quite as steady and your speech isn't quite so clear. This is my least favorite kind of drunk for sure, since I don't think I'm very drunk at all but turn out to be smashed in reality. Thing is, I'm sure I didn't even come close to having the most drinks that night. The bride's family can really, really put it away. Ugh.
I ended up looking just as good as I'd hoped. I ended up finding the perfect shirt (professionally fitted, and now I know for sure I need a 40/41 inch sleeve), and the perfect shoes. Everything was on point. And while there were a ton of fine single ladies there, I had really no desire to hit on a single one of them. I was having fun just dancing with my friends and being happily intoxicated. At one point even one of the girls came up to us and asked us why we were dancing with each other and not with all the pretty girls that were around (she herself was a foxy, foxy Asian girl), to which I thought of walking up to her, grabbing her hand and leading her to a clear spot on the floor and saying "well all you had to do is ask," and give her a wink, but I just...didn't even want to. Plus Sam was around and I didn't want to make her feel bad (also the ride home would have been awkward).
Something that's important to know about me is that when I drink, two things happen: I become the most loving human being on the planet, and I become very honest and open. Usually this works to my advantage, and very well I might add, but it becomes detrimental when I'm in a closed space (say like a car), when I'm alone with a girl I have feelings for. Basically, I messed up last night. Sam and I were having a convo about something that happened when we were still involved, and the convo lead to how we wished we both would have done things a bit differently. Well, when we got to the bar, She finally started drinking herself. We got a ride back to my place from a sober buddy of mine, and that's when things really went bad. We were talking about our feelings, and I wish I would have had the sense to keep my damn mouth closed. I told her about how one night when my (brief) girlfriend at the tine was passed out in my bed, that I sat there and was missing Sam a lot. And how when I drove Sam to her (also brief) boyfriend's house, that I desperately wanted to tell her that to forget about him, and that we'd turn around right then and we could go back to my house and figure things out. I said a lot of stuff I didn't want to tell her, as did she. I didn't want to say them because they aren't true or anything like that, I'm just worried now that I've made it easier for her to get hurt by me. The main problem is is that I still don't know if I should be with her or not. I honestly do love her, but she scares me, too. My fear of getting hurt by her I feel would lead me to be on the defense offense the whole time to protect me feelings, and only end up hurting hers because of that. We've already established that we need to have a sit-down. I have no idea what I'm gonna say. I should have been worried when a total hottie at the bar started hitting on me by the juke box, and I had no desire to hit on her back. I saw the look in her eyes when I walked by, with her giving me the slow up and down look and the "hello," smile, and the first thing I think of is Sam. She started chatting me up (I was still wearing my suit, so this is why), and I just kind of dealt with it and made small talk back to her, but as soon as I could be I was back on my way. usually nothing stops me from flirting. It's second nature to me. Dang, I've typed enough already. Basically, I wish I hadn't said anything to Sam, even though for me it was very cathartic. I'm just afraid now. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. Ugh. We'll see what happens. Wish me luck.
Signing out,
Franklin D. Orren.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)