The Leap

Mr. Boyfriend and I had a long conversation about things. Anger was a topic, as were our personal histories. He acknowledges his own garbage. Says he will work for change – a choice unrelated to me being in or out of his life. And I know that he will, as he has done it before. It is bizarre to know someone who will actually do this. Just because he sees a problem, the negative affect it has on his life, and that it keeps him from getting what he wants.

We talked about our relationship, friendship verses dating. We have been friends for nearly a decade. We did not do so well at dating. Answering other phone calls from female friends it is natural for me to say, “Honey, I’m on the other line, can I call you back?” I never did this with him. There were no words of endearment, no touchy feely stuff. No “I love you”. Not from his end, either.

Assuming the dating part of our relationship had ended in failure, we commenced discussion of things we should have talked about it the midst of it all. We both come from relationships where the other half was extremely unfaithful. This is his primary Achilles heel. Mine, is anger. Neither one of us trusts and both are chicken. We watched the other and waited for them to fail us. Neither one of us really went out on a limb and risked.

I have never really understood him until last weekend, when things started to click for me. I watched and waited and listened and asked questions. Finally, I came to some conclusions, none of which I will write here, as they are of little interest to others.

At the end of this conversation the man told me that he’s in love with me. My knees went weak. I turned to mush.

I did not say it back. I felt like a schmuck. I certainly feel it.

Anger is such a trigger for me – and his anger is a volatile thing. Not a dangerous thing, per se. I am not comfortable with anything louder than a pin drop. I startle. I freeze. My brain goes into survival mode and I watch body language like a hawk. I cease to pay attention to the conversation and focus on my fear. I go still inside and I wait. With him, of course, the inevitable never comes. But I don’t know that. Not really.

Facing this is a big deal. I will never know what man might hit a point where he becomes violent. I feel vulnerable. Being in a relationship requires vulnerability. Physically and emotionally. I am not ready for this. I will never be ready for this. All I can do is take it at a slow crawl.

I feel very, very angry at my ex-husband. There is ice-cold fury inside of me. I hate that I let someone do this to me. There are no quick fixes. The only antidote is time and baby steps. I simply do not want these emotions any more. I want to feel normal. I want to have a normal relationship. I want to call someone “honey” or “sweetie” or say, “I love you”. I want to be comfortable with these things. I want to feel comfortable hugging someone or kissing someone or reaching out for someone. But I feel awkward. It’s the worry about the sting of rejection, fear of exposing myself.

And he has these same fears. He took the leap. And I was mute. Lovely.