Reality versus Fiction
**Note: This is more personal than I ever expected to be on this blog, and if you don’t wanna know that much about me then you’re welcome to not read.**
I don’t daydream about him anymore. For awhile there it was always what I thought about before going to bed… what it would be like to be face-to-face.
I’ve been afraid to ask him questions. I’m afraid to send emails at 3am confessing something… anything. I’ve been trying really hard not to attribute my fear to his reaction, but the truth is, that’s exactly what’s going on.
What is it about liking someone who lives so far away? Is there a certain level of safe assurance that makes it seem worthwhile? I know that while we are not officially attached (we’re not exclusive or boyfriend/girlfriend), we don’t have to worry about disappointing the other under the current umbrella of ambiguous. There’s no “date night”. There’s no time set aside just for the two of us on a regular basis. There are no promises either of us has to keep. We don’t have to account for our whereabouts, or explain ourselves when we’re out with friends. There are also days when I won’t have heard anything from him… and I’ll hesitate to send him an IM or an email.
It all, just, is.
I spend hours thinking about the potentiality of a relationship. I’m wondering about our compatibility. If distance weren’t an issue, what sort of problems might arise? Is age going to be a bigger factor than I originally anticipated? Really, my thoughts tend to run along the lines of whether or not I made the whole thing up in my head. I fear that I’ve somehow become that person who can’t differentiate between reality and fiction. Maybe I’ve imagined everything. Maybe I wanted to see he was interested, but really he’s just being nice to me… to stave off the potential crazy that’s lurking under the surface. I always thought I had a great imagination so why not fabricate the start of a relationship with a guy who lives so far away!
I have to wonder why I’ve allowed myself to be attached to a guy and all the while remaining completely unattached.
It makes more sense that I imagined everything.
When faced with the reality of whether or not I have, in fact, imagined everything I find myself at a loss for words. I’m just too scared to ask. Or I ask in a way that comes across as rhetorical, so no answer is given. Not getting a response at all to the novella-sized emails feels like he’s declaring I have, in fact, imagined the whole thing.
I’ve put myself out there in the only way I feel comfortable at this stage… by emailing him. I’ve done the best that I can to let him know that as far as I know I meant what I’ve said and I’ve meant what I feel. I’m afraid it might not be enough. There are plans to meet and I’m completely terrified! I suspect that I will make myself sick with worry, anticipation, and anxiety just before I have to get on a plane to go to a strange city. I’m glad that there will be others there, on this trip, so that if it all goes horribly wrong, or I’ve imagined the entire thing, I have a small support system to dampen the blow.
But on those days when I’ve ran out of spoons and all I wanted was 15 minutes of his time, I didn’t ask him for it. Then I was upset at myself for not having the balls to ask him for a little bit of his time. Never mad at him… just sad that I don’t know what areas are safe… what can I ask for… what quantifies as “needy” and “too much”.
Every other day he surprises me with something. A youtube link. A tv show suggestion. A joke. And every opposing day I’ve convinced myself it’s all in my head. That he’s only being friendly.
Maybe I’ve fooled myself long enough…