Love is a Dog from Hell

I will want to remember.

Though right now, I don’t know that I want it here, I don’t know if what I churn up in writing it out will be of use to to me or will just be more…foam.

Title aside, this is a happy post.  Happy enough.  Happy in a mechanical, perfunctory, maybe genuine, headache too aching to be sure sort of way.

Phone talk today. He called me “adorable.”  I said he was adorable, too, in my own inimitable style.   Not something, I suppose, that can be taken back.  This was after current images were shared, a picture I took early today being my offering, with Heidi hair and lipstick too garish and eyes too bright and earnest.  It’s not the look I should go for.  I don’t want to be adorable, but I don’t want to not be adorable, to be attempting to throw Bette Davis eyes around when what the fuck are either of us going to do with that?

Nothing, I assert, that shall end up in these pages.

He talked to me in Elvish and whereas once I would have been giddy, and even later, even so very recently, I suppose I would have rolled my eyes. Instead, it just made me smile, like, that’s a kind thing to be offered.

I feel like I should be overcome with positive adrenaline.  I should be punching the air, some emotional hurdle crossed without hitching my ankle against it.  Yes, I am making progress! Someone has an emotional response to me and they aren’t liable to up and send me some heartbreaking letter about how they’ve been going out with a vegetarian who they will end up marrying and having two children with.  Sigh.  I should be just a tick up from placid and pleased.

Instead, the tarantella.

I know my head is capable of some extraordinary things.  The meaning of it all – the demands of it all – the timbre of his voice.  The I should.  I should be smooching my screen with the picture he sent me, heart a clatter of butterflies.  Instead, he feels like a strange man, some adult, as anonymous to me as one of those Law and Order extras.  But then, we talk, and his voice, his compliments, his happiness, his intelligence, his interest bypasses this suspicious, angry part of me that thought somehow that the apotheosis of childhood crushes was going to emerge and love me if only I didn’t settle.  I feel warm and positive and pleased.  And then, a slash and a sneer and an exhausted anxiety overwhelms me and I feel like I want to feel the comforts of being desperate and alone again.

Really, today’s lesson is not to try and derive lessons.  This morning I thought he was mad at me because I couldn’t get the conversation together – silent treatment just because we weren’t talking all the damned time.  I was near apoplectic thinking about I was both apologetic and why the fuck do I need to apologize for being shy for and tired and whatever for…

Now, I have yet more evidence that there’s something going on and if I don’t refuse it, it will keep standing in my space, breathing.  Whatever it is, it is a thing.  It has a presence.  I am so freaked out, but I know that it’s my head.

This is not a bad, cruel, terrible, or otherwise unprovided for situation.  It’s just an exchange of kindnesses.