I Want to Put Your Number on the Call Block

I continue to having problems with Klingon, and it is not cool. He Facebook messaged me yesterday, which would have been fine if I didn't already kind of hate him, and I actually told a friend of mine that I thought he was easing up a little on the persistence. Then, he undid his good work by calling me last night at 9:30, right as I was preparing to go to bed.

Here's the thing: anger accrues. None of the things Klingon has done, by themselves, would be enough to push me over the edge to homicide. If someone I wasn't already annoyed with did any of those things, I would be mildly irritated but it would quickly pass. It's the fact that he's done all of those things that makes me insane.

I gave all of this some (infuriated) thought last night. My issues in this situation are many.

1) I am invested in seeing myself as a nice person. Ignoring people or being deliberately callous to them goes against the image I have of myself as nice. I resent Klingon for pushing me to act against my image of myself with his inability to back off. Maybe it's time to cast aside that self-perception anyway. I think I've slid right from being nice into being a doormat in a lot of situations. I might have let "nice" be defined as being whatever other people need me to be instead of being myself. I've certainly let my image of myself as nice prevent me from defining boundaries in relationships. It's just not healthy to let the other person have complete control over defining the relationship.

2) I resent the intrusion on my life. I spend as much time being angry after Klingon calls and I don't answer his call as I would if I just picked up the phone.

So, I blocked his ass on my cell phone.

I Want to Break Free from Your Lies, Your So Self-Satisfied, I Don't Need You

Last night, I dreamed that someone proposed to me. It wasn't someone I've ever met in real life. It wasn't even someone I think I'd ever be attracted to in real life. I didn't really see much of this fellow in the dream, but I knew he was super-wealthy and from an old, important family (like the Kennedys or the Bushes). His brother helped him to set up the proposal, which involved a bunch of people turning over signs with letters on them that spelled out "Will you marry me?" He did it at a sporting event or some other such thing where he wasn't sitting right next to me at the time, so I had to get up from my seat to try to find him. But when I went looking for him, I was screaming Goose's name at the top of my lungs.

Without Him, the World Around Me Changes, The Trees are Bare and Everywhere the Streets are Full of Strangers

Goose...

Goose has the sixth sense most men seem to have that alerts them to the moment when a woman decides to be through with them. He posted a cute comment to my Facebook status update last night. Part of me was thrilled, and part of me just wishes he wouldn't do that. It's not that I don't think he means it, it's that I don't think he means it as much as I need him to mean it.

I Bust the Windows Out Your Car and No, It Didn't Mend my Broken Heart

I figured out how to hide Goose's updates on Facebook. This is a good compromise between the dramatic step of de-friending him and the equal drama of wanting to cry every time that insensitive douche-bag posts a status update without having responded to my last email (which I sent in the paleolithic era, it was so long ago).

I started watching Glee today, and I wildly over-identified with the Rachel character. She's a nerdy, unconventionally attractive young woman who is in love with a more conventionally attractive, popular jock named Finn. Rachel and Finn meet in the glee club, and it's obvious that he has feelings for her too, but he doesn't have the sack to dump his popular, blond girlfriend for the quirky, brunette Rachel. (To be fair to Finn, he is unusually emotionally courageous for a high school boy in other ways, such as standing up to his football team about his desire to participate in glee club.) The other main relationship to watch on the show is similarly fraught. Will Schuester, the married glee club director, and Emma Pillsbury, the guidance counselor with OCD, clearly pine for each other despite the fact that he is, as mentioned, married. I watched the first three episodes of the show, filled with hope that Will and Emma would kiss even though that would make him a scuzzy adulterer.

Has watching TV and movies completely warped my expectations about relationships? When you watch relationships unfold on TV and in the movies, they are always plagued by obstacles. Otherwise, it wouldn't be very compelling. The only exception I can think of off the top of my head is Turk and Carla on Scrubs, but they were not the focus of the show and they did have their own problems (e.g., Carla's hesitation over accepting Turk's marriage proposal and the fact that they separated during their first year of marriage). Are real relationships meant to be so dramatic? Am I looking for something hard because it's what I'm used to seeing when I should be looking for low-hanging fruit? Or, even worse, do I crave the drama so much that I'm not interested in a relationship that doesn't start off with way too much of it?

I love Goose so much. But it hurts to love him. I was so distraught about him today that I actually cried -- not just a few little tears, but big, ugly sobs. It is inevitable that there will be tearful moments in relationships, but it doesn't seem right that I should be feeling so abandoned by him. It's fair to say that my expectations of him are high, but I don't think they are unrealistically high. I don't expect him to break up with his girlfriend for me or propose that we enter into a romantic relationship even if the two of them break up for other reasons, but I expect that he respond to me when I email him. I expect him to initiate conversations sometimes. I expect him to acknowledge my existence. The fact that he doesn't hurts. And yes, it tells me that I shouldn't invest any more of my time or effort in him, but I'm not doing that. I'm not contacting him, and, as mentioned, I set up Facebook to avoid letting me know what he's doing. But that doesn't eliminate the feelings that are already there. Maybe I would feel better if I threw a brick through his windshield.

Wave Good-Bye Now, Baby Blue, You're Exploding Like a Star in the Room

Every time I sit down to try to write about how I'm feeling about Goose, I find I don't know what to say. There are all kinds of emotions roiling inside me, but I don't know how to express myself. I'm just such a mess right now. I love him, and I accept that he doesn't feel the same way about me. I accept that whatever he felt for me was ephemeral and that as soon as he found himself back in his usual orbit, I faded into a vague memory that occasionally popped up to pester him in the present. Goose is not the first man I've ever met in my life who acted at one point in time like I meant something to him and at a later point in time like I was a bit of a nuisance. I don't like any of that, but I can accept it. In a sad way, it makes more sense to me than if he behaved the way I want him to. I'm not sure I would know how to react if he kept up a vigorous correspondence, broke up with his girlfriend, and suggested we try having a relationship. I would be happy, but it would be terra incognita for me.

The problem is that while I can accept that he has disengaged from me, I can't quite disengage from him. When I severed all ties with The Only Living Boy in New York, it felt like making a clean slice. When I think about him now, I feel no regret or longing. I feel angry with him, and I also feel finished with that relationship. I don't feel that way about Goose. When I tell myself that I need to accept that Goose doesn't want me in his life, my throat closes up and my eyes fill up with tears. When I see his stupid status updates on Facebook, I feel pangs that he's online but not responding to me. When I think about de-friending him on Facebook, the pangs are even worse.

I'm like a two-year-old, basically. Something I want is being taken away, and I just want to sit down on my bottom and sob about it. I can't be an adult and acknowledge the fact that this person doesn't give a shit about me and is therefore someone about whom I should not give a shit. This is exactly why I'm going to end up alone.

You Make Me Sick

I am pissed at Goose. Yeah, I know, what else is new. He hasn't responded to my last two emails even though he has been on Facebook. Does he know how hurtful that is? More importantly, does he give a shit? I'm guessing the answer to both questions is probably "no." Why doesn't he just write back? Why do I continue to invest emotionally in this plummeting stock?

I thought that Goose and I had a connection, that we both at least wanted to remain friends. I hoped for more with all my heart, but I prepared myself to accept friendship. What I failed to prepare myself for, because it seemed inconceivable, was his indifference.

Bugaboo

I have a friend from whom I need to escape. We met in Egypt, and we both lived in the same city at the time. Surprisingly, our friendship was of an acceptable level at that time. We mostly socialized through a mutual friend/third party and had limited, appropriately-spaced independent interactions. Unfortunately, our mutual friend and he got into a fight. Around that time and perhaps because of that, the friend got super-clingy. He started calling me more often, and every time he called, he wanted to stay on the phone for at least two hours.

I don't like talking on the phone. I talk to my mom, my brother, my grandmother and Teeny. There are people I consider soul mates, people I love enough to name my children after, people I have known for more than a decade to whom I do not speak on the phone more than once per year. I realize that makes me unusual. A secondary problem that I believe makes me less unusual is that I don't like people clinging to me.

The friend does not seem to have any emotional intelligence. He calls and calls, leaving one voice mail message after another, and he does not desist even if I never return any of his calls. Normally, if I call someone, and the person doesn't call me back, I assume the person is either busy or not interested in talking to me and I don't try calling him or her again for at least a week or two. I finally sent him a Facebook message telling him that I'm impossible to reach on the phone and he should just message me on Facebook if he needs me. (Yes, this was kind of a punk move on my part.)

I was punished for being kind of a punk by the following actions on his part: (1) daily Facebook messages (at a minimum frequency), (2) always commenting on my Facebook status and (3) deciding he wants to come visit the city where I presently reside. He asked if I want to hang out with him when he's here. The answer is clearly "no," but I said we could have dinner when he's in town. In his typical "take a mile" fashion, he now wants to dragoon me into spending a day sight-seeing with him.

I have lived in this city for about a decade in total. I have seen all the sights I care to see. If someone I liked came to town, I might be willing to endure either the seeing of sights that never interested me to begin with or a review of sights I've seen already. I'm not going to spend my entire day schlepping around to see a bunch of shit I don't care about with a person I don't care for. In a rare display of backbone, I told him that not with chloroform could he get me to go sight-seeing with him. Then, he proceeded to call me on the phone when he knew I was out of town with my mother, sent me a Facebook message imploring me to reconsider my anti-sight-seeing stance, and I received a postcard from his recent trip overseas.

I would say that I have no idea what to do about this Klingon, but I know exactly what I must do. I must sever all communication with him. If I'm going for bonus points, I should also tell him that he's too clingy and intense for me and I don't want him ever to contact me again for any reason.

It's Only Me Who Wants to Wrap Around Your Dreams

I had a dream last night about The Only Living Boy in New York that was so obvious in its meaning that I almost woke up laughing. In the dream, he invited me to visit him at his apartment. It took me forever just to get to the apartment. Even after I arrived at the building complex, which was far away, I had to take a monorail through all the different apartment towers and then had to try to find the right elevator to get to The Only Living Boy in New York's apartment. When I finally got there, he wasn't in his apartment, but I ran into someone we both know (in the dream, I have no idea who the person was in real life) who told me he was outside. So, I had to go outside to try to locate him. I woke up right around the time I found him.

How much more obvious can my subconscious be about my feeling that The Only Living Boy in New York can't meet me halfway? Or even meet me one percent of the way? In fact, it seems like the more I try to meet him halfway, the further he stretches the distance between us. When I put it like that, I think to myself, "How dumb are you that you can't take the hint that he doesn't want you in his life?" Maybe that's what my subconscious is trying to ask me. In waking life, my analysis of the situation is complicated by the fact that he says he wants us to be in each other's lives, he says he wants to be friends, he says he wants to spend time with me, and he initiates contact. In other words, the motherfucker gives mixed signals. He's done it before, and it is time I learned that mixed signals are the only way he knows how to interact with me. He doesn't know what he wants from me, so some days, he comes on strong, and other days, he remains elusive. I know what I want from him, and it doesn't involve putting myself out there and getting nothing in response. Maybe my subconscious is just trying to show me how ridiculous it is that I put in this kind of effort with this man who can't put it in even a tiny fraction of the same effort for me.

Love Will Be the Death of Me

I talked to Goose last night. He was talking about how he wants to come to my city. That man is going to kill me.

But One's Never Going to Let Go of That Wire, He Says That He Will But He's Just a Liar

I still haven't heard anything from The Only Living Boy in New York. I am not impressed, but he might be doing me a favor. I genuinely don't have romantic feelings for him anymore. The only reason I thought a friends with benefits arrangement might work out well for us is that I'm still attracted to him (and he is attracted to me too, based on what he said) but I'm emotionally unavailable to him because I'm in love with Goose. Even though I don't want to be his girlfriend, it hurts to be treated shabbily as a friend and it hurts to have my sexual advance ignored. I mean, since when is he too good for my junk? Fucker.

At the same time, my thing for Goose is most likely pointless and self-destructive. I love him so much that my chest aches when I talk to him. Maybe I won't always feel that way, but I do now. Maybe it's best not to cloud up a confusing situation further by giving my heart to one man and my junk to another. All I know for sure is that it would be nice, just once, to love someone without it hurting.

Go Ahead and Have Her, Go Ahead and Leave Her, You Only Ever Had Her When You Were a Fever

The Only Living Boy in New York can bite me. After heavy flirtation and agreeing to be my friend with benefits, he has been virtually silent for 36 hours.

I'm less than six months away from turning 30. That's not old by any means, but it seems like as good a time as any to get my shit together. I've been fucking around with this ass clown for two years, and he does the same shit all the time. He tells me how much he wants to hang out with me, and then when it comes time to make a plan, he goes mute. I can accept that he doesn't want to be my boyfriend, mostly because I don't want to be his girlfriend, but he's acting shittily even for a friend. This makes me want to punch him in the nuts.

I don't have much to offer The Only Living Boy in New York beyond my sparkling company and sex without dating. If that isn't enough to make him happy, there isn't anything more I can do for him.

From the Picture My Mind Drew, I Know I'd Look Good on You (Amy Amy Amy), Although I've Been Here Before (Amy Amy Amy), You're Just Too Hard to Ignore

I think The Only Living Boy in New York and I might be upgrading our status to friends with benefits. I'm concerned he is going to punk out, but I hope he doesn't. It's a good time for us to make that transition. I still care about The Only Living Boy in New York a lot, and we're still good friends, but I'm in love with Goose.

Even Though They Do Not Know It, All Mankind are Now Your Brothers

I haven't talked to Goose in four days. I was giving him some space for a few of those days (or, rather, giving myself some space from him), but now that I'm trying to run into him on Skype, he's nowhere to be found. Skype shows he hasn't been online in four days, though he has been on Facebook. If I had a reason that didn't feel entirely flimsy, I could email him, but I prefer to wait him out.

I really miss him. Now that we're both at home, I'm starting to see that he has certain defects (particularly in his inability to commit to a woman) that would be hard for me to deal with if he were my boyfriend. In spite of that, I'm in love with the man. The time I spent with him in Peru was, I now realize, the happiest I have ever been in my whole life. That wasn't entirely due to him -- Peru is a magnificent country full of friendly people, delicious food, incomparable sites and incredible shopping -- but he was a major part of it.

I can't explain the connection I feel to Goose. I can't explain what it is about him that makes me feel the way that I do, though he has many fine qualities that I can easily name (kindness, intelligence, humor, etc.). More than one person has criticized how attached I am to him based on spending a week with him, but I guess they've just never had something like this happen to them. I want to have that feeling again. I want to have it even more and all the time. I'm just not thinking that Goose wants to play his part in making that happen.

Kangaroo Jack

This is what Paprika thinks I should say to Goose: "Tell him something like, "Kangaroo, it was nice to get to know you. Peru was fun. I hope you the best. Take care." Done. La fin."

Well, You're Kinda Looking at Me Like I've Got to Set You Free, You Know I Can't Be Nobody

I haven't talked to Goose much since the awkward conversation we had a few days ago about my coming to Australia (or not), but I've been thinking about it a lot.

Paprika got my foot broken off in his ass yesterday for asking if I had arrived at "desperation station." Paprika is not the first person to suggest that I might have been too intense in suggesting that I go to Australia to visit Goose, but it isn't cool to accuse a friend of being desperate. I concede that my actions were a little on the bold side, but, in my defense, it didn't (and still doesn't) seem like a big leap from his assumption that I would drop whatever I'm doing and fly to Las Vegas to spend time with him to going to Sydney to spend time with him there. Paprika apologized after I called him an asshole for deliberately being hurtful about something I'm already hurt about.

As for Goose, I don't know what I'm going to do about him. I've been giving myself a little space from him the past couple of days, but I don't want to lose him completely. My guess, based on his behavior subsequent to our awkward conversation, is that he would prefer to keep me in his back pocket and just press through the awkwardness like it never happened. I'm okay with the latter, if not the former, and I don't get the impression that it would be well-received if I tried to address the awkwardness directly. I love Goose very much, but I've started to develop a less favorable image of him over the last few days. The way he interacts with me tells me that he's not completely committed to his girlfriend (he might be keeping his junk in his pants, but he's emotionally unfaithful, which I think is just as bad), and that tells me that he probably wouldn't be completely committed to me either if he promoted me to the status of girlfriend. Maybe he just needs some time to grow up, or maybe not. But I obviously need to manage my expectations of him if I want to continue being his friend.

All of this led me straight back to where these things usually lead me: to The Only Living Boy in New York. The Only Living Boy in New York has many, many shortcomings, but he always makes me feel wanted, and that's what I need right now because Goose made me feel unwanted. When I told The Only Living Boy in New York that I liked him (both times), he said he just wanted to be friends. I figured that was just some male bullshit to blow me off, but he genuinely puts in effort to stay in touch and, when he can, spend time with me. I wish he had romantic feelings for me, but I still feel loved just because of how committed he is to the friendship. It makes me feel special, and when Goose is treating me like his dirty mistress, it's nice to feel special.

We Are a Fever, We Are a Fever, We Ain't Born Typical

Is there any aspect of my life that I'm not aggressively trying to fuck up this week? Seriously, I'm like Edward Scissorhands before he figures out that he can use his scissorhands to cut hair and prune hedges.

I talked to Goose this morning, and he revealed the terrible news that he isn't coming to the United States in October after all. His boss was able to get his paperwork in order (his boss can bite me, by the way). I countered this information by suggesting I visit him in Sydney. Initially, he seemed somewhat receptive, suggesting he could show me around and listing some of the local attractions. But relatively quickly, I felt like he was trying to back-pedal and discourage me from going. He told me I shouldn't come across just to see him because of the cost. (Like, why else would I go to Sydney? I've been to Australia before. It's just a version of the United States that you have to spend a fucking day on a tuna can of a plane to get to. Not that it's not a nice place, but it doesn't have anything I haven't seen already when I was there before that we don't have here other than Goose.) And then he said that he is going to be away for most of the rest of the year and gave me the dates (which...yeah, he is). And he said that he doesn't have any leave for the rest of the year, so he's free only on the weekends. At that point, even though it was 6:30 in the morning, I cottoned on to the fact that he just doesn't want me to come. I don't think it's that he doesn't want to see me since he seemed keen to see me in Las Vegas, so I assume it's that he doesn't want me in the same country as his girlfriend. (That would probably be an awkward conversation between the two of them. Like, "Oh, hey, so I almost cheated on you with this girl on vacation. And now she's in my town, staying at my apartment. Everything's cool!")

It made me feel like shit. I am crazy about this guy (literally, probably), and I would be thrilled if he came to my town, even if I couldn't spend as much time with him as I would like. Whether it was reasonable or not, I wanted him to have that same reaction. Instead, he seemed a little panicky about the idea.

It's entirely possible that I'm being too intense about this. Anyone who knows me, if asked to pick five words to describe me, would pick the word "intense." Most people would probably choose it first or second. If I could stop being intense, I would, but I haven't been able to figure out how to do that yet. I could pretend not to be intense for Goose's benefit, but if he fell in love with some mellow version of me, he would be in for a bad and unfair surprise when the truth came out down the road.

I think Goose knew he put his foot in it and hurt my feelings a little after I said good-bye somewhat abruptly because there was an email from him when I got to work. He didn't refer to our conversation, but he sent me some information about how big scarves like the one I made him for his birthday are the must-have accessory for men in the fall/winter season. He told me I was right on the money and then was joking with me about his junk (his favorite topic). In my experience, guys tend to jolly girls along like this when they know they've done something wrong but either don't know exactly what it was or don't want to discuss it directly.

So, he obviously still wants to talk to me because we were emailing. But somehow, I still feel like I've become The Other Woman. And I just generally feel shitty.