Sunday, November 21, 2010

Relapse

Fair warning, this post is going to be unusually emo and embarrassingly honest. I may even want to beat myself up by the time it’s over, but here we go. Whenever I spend some time with a certain former Mr. Wonderful of mine, I am filled with sappy feelings of self-pity and nostalgia. It’s not nostalgia for the relationship I had with him necessarily, more for a relationship in general.

I always enjoy getting together with him. Even after not seeing each other for some time, we don’t experience that awkward re-acquaintance period. I always feel completely natural around him and it’s easy to slip back into the sickening cuddly relationship behavior when he becomes affectionate ( which is approximately 15 seconds from the moment he greets me). I relish that feeling of being loved and cared for again, because I am a weak moron. Rationally I know I’m not the most important thing in his life, heck I’m not even the most important thing in his weekend, but for those few hours that we are together I am reminded of what it’s like to be that special someone.

It seems harmless enough, but every once in awhile, when these meetings are over, a sense of melancholy sets in. Most recently it hit me before we even parted ways. So naturally, like the collected, emotionally mature adult that I am, I broke down and cried in his confused presence. Like the respectful individual he is he made the obligatory inquiry into what could possibly have reduced me to a weeping child. Perhaps he was (intelligently) feeling me out to see if I was going to have another drastic mood swing that would put him in harm’s way due to my obvious insanity.  I didn’t offer him any explanation. I couldn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure what inspired the blubbering at the time, but I pinpointed it shortly after I left. The poor guy never did get an answer. He just sent me on my merry way. Probably assuming I was deranged and PMSing—which I guess are basically the same thing.

I missed being in a relationship. I didn’t before seeing Mr. Wonderful, but now I did. Or maybe I did and I didn’t realize it? No, I’m quite sure I didn’t miss it prior to the sickening cuddle bug moments with the ex. We didn’t do anything terribly romantic, just coffee and watching a movie in his disgusting man abode. But that’s the lame, boring crap I miss. Just being able to do absolutely nothing with someone and yet thoroughly enjoy myself. I miss spending time with someone and not having to be in any way strategic. Dating is exhausting in that way. No matter how well you click with an individual and how natural you attempt to be, you inevitably choose your words and actions more carefully in those first few months. Even though I love the inherent sense of freedom that comes with being single, I miss that unique freedom of being uninhibited around someone who embraces my quirks and tendency to be an utter nerd of Urkel proportions.

We had even had a brief altercation about his inconsiderate behavior during our visit. A moment that should have reminded me of all the crappy points of being attached to someone, but apparently my brain had turned to mush and all logic was replaced with an unmitigated need to be adored by someone. And he’s good at making me feel adored even if I know he’s mostly full of it. Curse his relentless boyish charm and seemingly sincere, endless string of compliments.

As with all my weak moments, regardless of what inspires them, it will pass with time or when I witness a heinous fight between a couple in a very public place. Still, when it happens it sucks, hard. Especially when it inspires an unwarranted and baffling tearful goodbye.

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