Having a Relationship With Yourself...

There's this point really early on, when you sort of know someone, but you don't really know them all that well. And it's usually in some vulnerable time when you're waiting for them to call that you find yourself trying to figure them out ~ fill in the pieces, defend them against your own anxiety.

You don't have all the pieces, so you have to improvise. And if you like someone, you tend to give them the benefit of the doubt and fill in the blanks with qualities you want and admire. But the longer this goes, the more of the personality, the person, you've improvised, the further from the truth and reality you've wandered.

You're basically having a relationship with yourself because the person you're waiting for doesn't actually exist. It's a creation of you own mind and your own longing. Sure, there's some truth to it. It did start out with a real person. But the creativity outweighs the reality and when faced with the full reality, it rarely measures up to what you created.

I'm still waiting for a phone call.

I HATE that I'm waiting for a phone call. I'm better than that. I know that for a fact.

But the phone is not ringing.

Fate is on my side, in its cruel merciless way. There's a tv show we both watch, that's a favorite of both of ours. Tonight's episode featured a redhead named Jennifer. (sometimes my own powers even astound me!) He has to be thinking of me. There's no way he could have gotten through that broadcast without thinking of me.

Still, the phone's not ringing.

I didn't need any plot device to make me think about him. I'm stuck. I realized that he had eaten artichoke hearts at dinner. That means I can finally get pizza with artichokes with someone other than my sister. How cool is that? And I remember how much fun he had playing naive with me and trying to make me blush more, as if I had some sort of inside experience with prostitution and had information he and the rest of the general public was not privy too. "A john, now really? What exactly is that?" And how relaxed I felt with him, putting my feet up on a chair in the restaurant and being completely comfortable. And when I finished my water, and there was no one in sight to refill it, he gave me his and got up and refilled mine.

But I'm trying so hard not to fill in the blanks. I don't want to create a version of him for myself. I want to actually know him.

The phone hasn't rung. It's pretty late anyways. I don't want to check my email, the last resort for the spineless. I'm afraid he's filling in the blanks and somehow when you imagine someone else filling in your blanks, you imagine them doing it in the least flattering way. He must think I'm a complete ditz. He must think my upkeep is expensive or at least my taste is ~ what with my newish car, my new house, my concern that he wasn't treating, my Tivo habit and my premium cable channels. I have no idea what he's thinking of me.

I'm just not having a relationship with myself on this one.