I don’t know how it happened, but my core is shaking and my ice cold heart is starting to melt. I want to run to the freezer, but his eyes, his touch, his soft, sweet words and his playfulness are pulling me to the heat.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was going to just casually date for awhile. Play the field a little. See what’s out there. Discover more about me. Date multiple people at a time. Bottle the sappiness up and keep the emotion locked tight. No more heartbreak, just fun for awhile. At least six months I told myself.
The logic seemed strong when I made the plan. My heart would be securely protected. I would be engaged in some great self-awareness building through dating. My options would be endless and I could really figure it all out for myself. And like every other good plan, I put those time parameters on, so I could do a “post-mortem” analysis of my findings and determine phase II of the plan.
What I didn’t figure into the plan was the “what if I really like one of the guys?” scenario. Do I just keep going along the plan, even though I’ve found a wonderful guy? The plan was meant to protect my heart, so clearly, I should walk away from anything that might have the remote possibility of being heartbreaking. Until the six month timeframe is over and I can set phase II, right? Stupid logic. Stupid plans. Why do I always have to have some dumbass process, logic, timeline approach to everything in life? I have always succeeded with these approaches in my academic life and in my career – and that’s where I feel most confident. And then I always try to apply the same stupid approach to my social life, my relationships, and IT DOESN’T WORK. But, see, now I have this plan, and I like to finish what I put my mind to doing, so I’m in a bit of a quandary.
Of course, I think that’s what my subconscious was scheming all along. A poorly thought out plan with no contingencies for meeting someone right prior to the six month timeframe. And a knowledge that I like to follow a plan. It was the perfect subconscious setup to ensure no heartbreak. I could keep my heart on ice for six months. No pain. Robot me would want to follow along and FINISH THE PLAN. Because that would be success, according to the ridiculous rules of engagement on this whole thing. It all made perfect sense.
HA! Now there’s these soul melting deep blue eyes that like to stare into mine and they are full of feeling. A man who wants it all. And the all is a very simple love filled existence that seems to complement my idea of how I will spend my transition from middle age into old age and beyond. I’m a puddle when he looks at me. I feel like a kid when we play together. I feel like a goddess when we sleep together. And when he shares his feelings, which is perfectly often, my ice cold heart continues to melt with each word.
But, alas, our first major disagreement this week. Both of us very pissy with the other. I withdraw immediately, all perfectly Veronica-like. He dishes some zingers out of fear, making me withdraw further. Aaaah…. back to my comfort zone. Love is a farce; my heart is better on ice. Then I chat with my best friend in the world online. I’m all proud to tell him what a great job I’ve done just calling it quits. I’m protecting myself – this is such a good thing. I was expecting a pat on the back. He always backs me up. He protects me. He truly wants the best for me. He was going to be pissed off at this guy!
And he told me to give him another chance. He asked me a series of questions. “Is this typical, or is this an aberration?”. “Does he make you happy most of the time?”. “Do you think he might just be having a bad day?”. And then, “Maybe he just really needs you today. Why don’t you give him one more chance, and if he screws up like this again, then I’ll back you to send him to the curb.”
In my ice cold logical, planned out world, everything had become so geared toward protecting my heart that my heart was even itself anymore. My best friend was right. As I sat back and reviewed the day’s communication, this guy needed me today. He was having a hard time. He was scared. Like I am. He needed me to melt a little bit more, on my own, and reach out. Like someone who really wants to love and be loved. I’m so glad my best friend knows that is all still inside me and loves me enough to call me out on it. I’ve decided to re-write my plan for now. It needs to go back to the drawing board. It needs to be focused on something that matters. The measurement of success can’t be about six months of no pain.