jump into love

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like “maybe we should just be friends” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

At what point do you say enough? I need to come to terms with my standing with one guy. Every time I see the slightest room for an advancement, it turns out to be a dead-end – usually with him building the barrier. I know what we are in relation to each other, and yet there’s still that lingering thought in my head “what if”. I hate that. I want something definitive so I can get on with my life, but every time I try to take that stand I usually end up coming back after some coaxing on his part.
I’d love to be in control of my feelings. How do I do that?

I have a medley of songs running through my head all in-line with the whole “jump” theme:

Jump Around – House of Pain
Jump – Van Halen
Jump – Kris Kross
Jump On It – Sugarhill Gang
Baby Got Back – Sir-Mix-A-Lot (just because it belongs on every mix tape)

So I’m in a bit of a troubled spot. It’s not so much the “spot” that is troubling, as much as the fact that I’m troubled by it.

The guy I’ve been seeing has just informed me that he is not going to drink anymore. No big deal, except that our entire relationship revolves around beer. We meet at a pub, 80% of the time we spend together is at pubs, and, most importantly, I really like beer.

I feel slightly uncomfortable drinking in front of him and a little dismayed that our goal of partaking in all 500+ beers at our watering hole is now stalled at 84.

Time for a drink.

...to be friends with a guy that you are madly in love with. I mean I know nothing will ever happen with him, and it’s not like he’s leading me on or anything. I just can’t seem to get him out of my life. Which I think is good.
He’s single right now, but I know eventually he’ll fall for someone and I’ll be tortured every time he talks about her, wishing it were me…but as of now, I’m strangely ok with that.

::sigh::

What’s it say about me that I love that more than the person who said it.

Friggin hopeless. Me. I am.

Well, at least in New York.

Yesterday on the way home from work I stopped at the grocery store. The train was packed and I was trying to hold my grocery bags as well as hold the pole so I wouldn’t fall over. Just as the train was about to start moving this guy touches my arm – now on the train that’s a no-no, so I immediately go on the defensive and think he’s trying to steal my pineapple. But he points to me and then himself. He’s adorable so I hope he’s asking “Wanna make out?” – but he’s offering his seat. I smile and shake my head no, but he’s already standing up and trying to get me to sit down. So I sit and proceed to look at him without looking at him – which is fairly easy, but a big mistake because I fell in love on the spot. Not only did he give up his seat – a gesture befitting a Noble Peace Prize – but he was also a dirtbag, and I mean that in the most loving way.
He was scruffy – it had been a while since he’s cut his hair or shaved. And he had two full tattoo sleeves – which I was looking at when he caught me looking at him. Then he pointed to my wrist where I stupidly had put a temporary tattoo the day before. Feeling like a dumbass I told him it was fake, and he told me his were to. I gave him a look, and he smiled. My heart melted just as my stop came. He gave a little nod as I got off the train and my heart broke.

That was the most intense, passionate, unforgettable love affair of my life.

::sigh::

I’ve found myself on the UES a lot these past few weeks – because of which the “types” of guys I have been meeting have been different than what I’m used to. They all have white collar jobs and wear suits and ties to work. I’ve never dated a guy who had to wear a suit to work, much less owned a suit. But whatever – try new things.
After a few dips into the pool I must say I’m throughly unimpressed. I’ve gone out with an undercover drunk (it’s fine if you’re a drunk – I’m a drunk, but I own it), a married guy (unknowingly…asshole), a racist (unless I’ve smoked with you – don’t call me a spic) and a guy who ordered for me and cut my food (wtf!?). So I think my little venture into white-collar world is coming to a close. Give me blue collar guys. Give me my no collar guys. Guys in carhartts. Tattoos. Construction workers. Ya, man.

Rant over.

A purpose of human life,
no matter who is controlling it,
is to love whoever is around to be loved.

Everythings a mess, but there is love in there…

...somewhere