When I was a kid, if we bitched and whined about wanting to do something, like play on a sports team, my parents would sign us up. And if, two practices in, we decided that it was too hot/hard/exhausting/dirty/whatever, my parents would stiffen their backs and give us the you-started-this, now-you’ll-finish-it look. In the end, it was always the right thing to do because with everything, you hit a hump or a wall and you have to go past this spot to get to the fun stuff. It always ended up being fun, it was always fine and my parents were always right.
Growing up like that has had a profound effect on how I view people’s character… I am the kind of woman that finishes what I start… I don’t shirk, I don’t dodge, I don’t avoid. If I had sense enough to start it, then I’ve got to figure out a way to finish it, too. This doesn’t mean I hang out in dead-end situations either… I won’t quit on something just because it isn’t fun anymore, but I will sure as hell quit on something that is failing-failing-failing.
This whatever thing with Dr. Dude is fizzling fast. In addition to the distance and the fact that he seems almost incapable of being consistently interested in my day to day life, I can almost fill up a hand with lofty promises that have gone unanswered. I won’t go into the details of these promises because, ultimately, the details don’t matter. What matters is that this man, this man that I’m attempting to trust with my heart, has gushed romantically about these things he plans on doing for me (and for my son, which is probably why I’m most upset) and in the moment, they are these really special and wonderful gifts, beautiful words delivered with such sincerity… They’ve intoxicated me into believing him and trusting him… And I’m sitting here… Waiting… On… Some… Kind… Of… Sign…
Fuck that. I know it’s not my nature to be patient, I get it. I know this is probably some sort of giant test to determine if I’m developing an adult level of patience or some bullshit like that… But fuck it. When you say that you’re going to do something for me… Do it.
It’s not hard. And this doesn’t even apply to tangibles, man… This is like… BASIC HUMAN INTERACTION.
I don’t think that Dr. Dude is just stringing me along, however much it seems like it to the outside world. I think he’s a great man and a wonderful human being… I just don’t think he’s got any idea what he’s getting himself into — I don’t think he’s in any position to be the kind of man that he wants to be for me right now. This isn’t his fault, per se… But dude should be in touch with this shit before he starts setting me up for disappointment.
I had a come to Jesus talk with him after that past post that I wrote about him and pretty much ended it, and firmly. “I deserve more than this. I will not chase you.” I was maybe a touch too firm as I felt regretful the next day. We talked again and sort of redefined the boundaries of our relationship without amending our feelings for each other. And it’s been like a week and I’m feeling even more frustrated with him and even less patient with him.
I’m losing interest and, for once, it’s not because I’m developing an interest in someone else. I’m just realizing that there are things going on with Dr. Dude that aren’t up to par with me… Things I’m not willing to compromise on. And that’s okay.
It’s been two days since I’ve talked to him and I left him a message on Monday afternoon and after work on Tuesday.
I will not chase a man. I will not expend any energy trying to convince a man that he ought to be with me. If he wanted to, he would be. Period. If he intended on fulfilling his promises to me, he would have. Period.
In other news, Cincy sent me my birthday present (a little late, but who gives?). I asked her to make me a mixed CD and she made me FOUR MIXED CDS. Holy shit, y’all… That’s 77 songs by 77 bands/artists… That’s nearly five hours of music, y’all. I am on the third CD and am considering staying up all night and listening to the fourth as well, but I probably won’t. I have big plans tomorrow. I’m meeting my new potential landlord tomorrow and might possibly have a living situation worked out. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. If I can get my living situation firmed back up and solid, I will have so much less stress. Jeez.
Yea, fuck staying up. I’m sleepy. It’s bedtime, y’all. Will update you more later.