An Addiction to Hands and Feet, There's a Meat Market Down the Street

I thought that when I met the right man for me, everything would fall easily into place. But I've met Goose, who I believe is the right man for me, and nothing has fallen anywhere, easily or otherwise. Am I being naive to think that transitioning from falling in love to being together has to be easy to be valuable? Or am I being naive to think that a man who is currently geographically and romantically committed elsewhere could ever be the one for me or would ever be interested in giving it a try?

The problem is that this situation requires the employment of skills that are not my forte: patience and acceptance. Right now, there isn't a damn thing I can do to move this situation in any direction. If this is a board game, it is not my turn. It is Goose's turn. He has a choice to make, whether he sees it that way or not. He can stick with the relationship he currently has -- the girl seems very nice, he cares about her, and even though I can see from here that it isn't a runner in the long-term, that doesn't necessarily mean he's ready to jettison it yet. He can abandon his relationship be single or take up with some other woman out there in the world. Or, he can do what I most hope for and give things a shot with me. Only he can make this decision -- I can't help him, his current girlfriend can't help him. I don't even know who he might ask about it, if anyone (I'm praying he consults his sister or his best friend since those two are dating and the sister is moving internationally to be with the best friend and they seem like potential allies). But I'm just left to sit here like a bump on a log and wait to see what happens. There really isn't anything I can do to influence the outcome in my favor. It makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

There is a big part of me that believes in fate or destiny or God's plan or whatever you want to call the idea that our lives are mapped out in advance and every event, good or bad, that unfolds is all part of the predetermined path. But believing that I have a destiny isn't the same thing as believing that destiny will be a good one, and there is a part of me right now that is catatonic at the idea that it could be my destiny never to see Goose again. (Thinking that that won't always feel as raw as it does right now doesn't help much. I tried to tell myself after we parted at the airport that what we had in Peru might be all I'd ever get and that I might need to content myself with that, and that just made me even more hysterical.) Further, believing that everything is predetermined gives rise to the idea that all the information about what will happen to me in life is out there, and not being able to access it is torture.

There is a valid argument to be made that love, of whatever duration, is a precious gift. It is true that the week I spent with Goose was more meaningful and fulfilling to me than far longer associations with other people. But it's not enough. I want to see him again, and soon. If we see each other again, maybe I'll discover that our connection isn't what I thought it was or that he's a bad kisser, but I need to know. I can only hope that he feels the same, even though he hasn't really given me any indication that he does.