Houses and Hearts part 6

Sometimes conversations are hard.  Sometimes they’re made harder by certain topics, sometimes they’re made easier by certain people.

I am good at putting on masks and pretending to be something or someone or an emotion that I am not.  But what I didn’t realize, was that some people make it easier to pretend.  Such that it is no longer pretending.

I can be upset and stressed, but when I call my boy who isn’t my boy at the moment, and I talk to him on skype, I am less stressed.  It’s easy to talk about easy things.  When I think about him and our non-existent relationship, on my own, I cry.  But when I talk to him over skype, and hear his voice and see him laugh at the things I say, I don’t cry.  I don’t feel like crying.  It’s easier to laugh.

Last time I almost cried, but it was at the end.  I was expecting more time to talk.  I was having fun.  And when the conversation was suddenly — if you can call an hour suddenly — cut short, with so much left unsaid, it felt like he didn’t care about me.  That the conversation that week, and the month before, and the fortnight before, all of them being under two hours even with so much time in between…

Because why should he care?  We’re not a couple—technically.  We don’t have a relationship—at the moment.  Even if you look at the calendar and see the conversation date written in red letters, the date our relationship could come back on line—or not.  Possibility is not probability.

And all the logic that we used to set up this non-relationship not-quite-breaking-up falls apart when hit with the hammer of emotion.  I have come to believe that some decisions are better served by using emotion that logic.  The most logical argument can still be wrong.  And has been.  Multiple times over.

The problem occurs when emotion and logic together conspire against emotion.  When there are multiple sides to a story.  Like always.  Almost always.

Because logic says, “I don’t get mad at my friend K when I set up all the skype calls, because I know that if she didn’t want to talk to me, she wouldn’t be my friend.”  But then logic follows through and says, “so I shouldn’t get mad at my boy when I set up all the skype calls, because if he didn’t want to talk to me, I wouldn’t be his girlfr…oh, wait.”  Even though, technically, he could say he was always busy and never talk to me at all…emotion doesn’t like that argument.

Emotion says, he laughs when I say things.  Emotion says, we still connect.  Emotion says, I’m less stressed when I’m talking to him.

But emotion also says, I cry when we hang up.  Emotion says, simple things make it feel like he doesn’t care.  Emotion says, if he cared we would have a relationship.  A romantic relationship.  Not this mockery of a friendship that wouldn’t be happening if I had no hope of getting back together in a relationship.  I can’t be just friends with him.  Not now.  Not yet.  Perhaps never.

So I am left, balancing on a tightrope above a city street.  Sometimes I can do it, and I am, if not happy, then okay with things as they are, almost satisfied.  But sometimes I dangle with one hand, wondering what led me to step onto that rope to begin with, wondering what I can use to pull myself back onto the swaying string.  The net below me is far away and may not catch me if I fall.  I have a better chance of making it if I can reach the other side.  But how many rope burns on my fingers and feet will it take for me to get there?

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About mybodymystory

Looking at things differently. I write about my personal experiences with society, especially regarding what messages I, as a woman, have received over time. I write about my body, not the body the media thinks I have or wants me to have. I write about my responses to sex, relationships, and political issues. This is my story of my body. There are a lot of things I write about that I believe overlap with other women. Come check out my story and see if you agree. Feel free to disagree, just be respectful about it.
This entry was posted in Creative Essays, During My Year Abroad, Relationships and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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