In everyone’s life there is that one song that we replay incessantly in our heads that we can’t help but equate to the very idea of what we want our love life to be like. For most of us, the artist behind the song where we are so freely saying I do is Ed Sheeran. Or, maybe it is just me?
There is this song called Thinking Out Loud. It is a beautiful song. But, so far, my other half is not on board. This could be because he is not the missing piece to my puzzle, he has lost his goddamn mind, or he is just still scared. Yes, ladies and gentleman, children of all ages…I caught one…who is afraid. Dear Whomeverfuckedhimupfromthebeginning, I hate you. For it is your fault that I am continuing to do damage control to this poor guy’s ego. I am continuing to clean up the freakin mess you made because you were unsure of what you wanted, because your ego was too fragile, because you are just a dick. So, here I am, with Mr. Grey, removing all of the insecurities he has with the very idea that the future may be plausible with someone by his side, all because you were not set on what you wanted for your future.
Dear Women across the world….STOP trying to TURN men in to something they are NOT. It’s really that simple.
I say this begrudgingly, because of course I want this fairytale romance to arise from my pseudo (still, pseudo) relationship with Mr. Grey, in a way that is inhuman. I want to magically turn in to Cinderella, without an induced psychosis state of consciousness, see my fairy godmother come down from the Heavens, and provide to me this magical moment. Like, secretly I not only want Mr. Grey to want to come with me to this concert where the second love of my life, Ed Sheeran, will be playing my absolute favorite song of all time (so far), but I want him to tell me he isn’t going to come only to then surprise me with two tickets. Is that really too much to ask? Do I really overly identify with these romantic screenplay characters to the point where I have lost all sight of what true love is? No. I haven’t. And this is the internal conflict I will now forever have battling in my hearthead.
You know, your hearthead? That part in your heart that is never quite in sync with the rest of your mind? That little tiny piece of jaded and cynical reality that screams GET OUT while you can? The part that sort of taints the perfect person for you just enough so you realize they are still human and not some mythical creature sent to you by Mr. Cupid himself.
Everyone has this right? Some people call it a red flag…but I don’t think it deserves this much attention yet….mainly it’s just a minor character flaw that I identified within Mr. Grey, which is normal. I mean, the honeymoon is over, no? And now, it’s becoming the stay or run for the hills time of the relationship, or whatever this is. You know, when you generously decide if it is worth another few months with the person to determine if he then has staying power? I mean, I have only been seeing him for a few months…since November. It is now the end of February…three months.
So, if I was an addict, I would get a coin for my 90-day mark right? I can say up until this point it has been sort of…well, one sided. But, I can say that within these 90-days he has cared when its counted most….right? No. Actually, no.
Okay, so let’s re-evaluate what exactly is going on. It is 5:13AM. Nothing is on TV. I cannot sleep for the sole fact that I am driving myself insane. It is a concert that I really want to go to that he can not only care less about, but blamed me for aggravating him to the point of eating a carb. Yes, I agitated him to the point where he ate a piece of bread! The horror, the agony! The I don’t really give a shit!
See, there is this song, like I said before, that whenever it is on it genuinely reminds me of him. It is a sweet enough song where I could fold in this romantic moment with him whenever it is on, but not too sweet that I blow my cover of really thinking like a woman. See, I have this image to uphold where I am a guy girl. I am the type of girl who earnestly does not care about all the foo-foo bullshit that enters with a relationship. I am the type of girl who prefers beer-to-wine. Who prefers a picnic bench to a white linen tablecloth in some fancy restaurant. I am real. I am much more comfortable sitting on my couch with said person watching The Avengers versus some Sleepless in Seattle type shit. In truth, I have never even seen Sleepless in Seattle. I prefer football, beer, confrontational conversation, laughing, and jeans, to roses, romantic cards, and sweet nothings. Literally. I am That Girl.
But, I think somewhere the message that I am a girl was misconstrued. Just because I am “cool” or “this girl,” doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a little romance sometimes. I mean, shit. I still have a vagina. I still bleed without dying for five days out of the month. I still have irrational thoughts, fears, and feelings that lead me to believe if I don’t consume a vast amount of chocolate something is wrong with the world. I hate flowers, but I still wish the purple bell flowered plant he brought over had the meaning I wanted to and wasn’t forewarned on impact to not “take this the wrong way,” and not to “think anything of it.” And then, when days later bring it up casually am told “I didn’t buy the plant for you, I told you that, I bought it because I liked it and couldn’t keep it at my house because my mom has too many of them, and your house needed cheering up.” When in reality he came in and said “don’t take this the wrong way,” and I said why? And he said “because there is a heart on it.”
Truth is, I am not going to go from holding his hand to running to the alter in a matter of moments. I want things to go slow, I want things to develop organically and not because I am this Master Manipulator who can make men do things. I want it to be honest. However, I also want something to be honest with. I want this grand gesture every now and then. I want him to do something that shows me that he wants me. That he wants to be with me. That without me he would hurt. That without me his life would be a little shitty. I want my hearthead to separate again and go back to just a heart and just a head. Not this awkward combination where my head is shouting stand back stand back fool he is too selfish for you and this unconditional thing is one sided…and my heart is fighting back with, but he is so damaged from all the bullshit prior to me that the clean up crew is still sweeping away the mess with Haz-mat suits on.
In further analyzing my situation, at now, 5:25AM….I have deduced that he ate that piece of bread out of guilt for not being able to allow himself the opportunity to come with me. Because when I said to him, “That’s crap. I am not like the girls u know. Its in 2 mos. U r coming.” To his, “Y not. I don’t plan the future. It just happens.” He knew I was serious. I am not like the girls he knows. And I think that may be what is fucking up his hearthead. I think his heart is like run for the freakin hills this chick is real and serious and has the ability to fuck your life up worse than anyone else ever has before because she accepts you for who you are and still wants to stick around….and his head is like, I like the unbreakable metal walls surrounding my mote, I enjoy the fire breathing dragon on guard for women like her, and I am going to execute orders to attack if she comes any closer…but lets let her linger in the waiting area I have where I store these types of women.
Patience is running out. My love for love is running out. And if Mr. Grey doesn’t make a move, his new name may be Mr. Gone. I mean, I we get the love we feel we deserve. Right? Then why don’t I get the flowers, why don’t I get the sweet cards, why don’t I get someone who, well, gets me? I hate flowers and romance because with it comes these overcompensating heroes who really don’t listen to anything you say, rather feel like society is forcing them to do these things and they really don’t have any idea why. But, I like plants. And a person who is thoughtful. So, hearthead…work your magic. Figure it out.
[2/27/2015]