I was riding the train this a.m., and watching DS9 with Charlie on my MP3 Player, when something unfortunate occured to me.  I recently wrote in a blog that I used to be a serial monogamist.  Jumping from one committed relationship to the next, never taking time for myself.  As soon as one failed, I’d jump, head first, into another.  And, I now see that I used to get close to people who I never otherwise would have, because I needed to be close to someone.  I couldn’t stand being alone.  I couldn’t stand having no one to comfort me.  No one to love me…  I needed the companionship, and validation, so badly, I convinced myself that there was a real connection, even when there wasn’t (and a couple of times, there REALLY wasn’t), and I put up with ridiculous things for similar reasons.  One guy broke up with me, and took me back, like seven times in like a month and a half.  For that period of time, all we did was start to reconcile, and then split back up (meaning he’d get horny, get laid, then freak out, and run, again).  I was so emotionally battered by the whole thing, I just wanted the loser to come back, so we could be happy, again.  The early part of the romance was cutesy, and easy to idealize.  We made belgium waffles in the mornings, for breakfast, and then we’d go to the beach and make sandcastles.  It was fun, but doing those things with any number of people would be fun.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized that he’d completely eviscerated my self-esteem, and made me emotionally dependent upon him (once I’d fallen in love with him, he started twisting me up inside to see what he could get away with).  I stayed way too long, with that piece of shit, and let it get way too serious, b/c I couldn’t see his manipulations and cruelty for what they were.  He’d trained me to blame myself and my dysfunctions, and shortcomings for all our problems.  

I don’t think Charlie was part of this trend.  I wasn’t looking for someone when he and I got together.  I was actually with the piece of shit that dumped me seven times when Charlie and I became friends.  He was friendly with the piece of shit, too.  And, the piece of shit and I were trying to make it work.  So, when I felt this overwhelming attraction to Charlie, I tried to avoid him.  But, he was drawn to me, and wouldn’t stay away.  We became friends. and I could not make myself stop wanting him for anything.  After I moved out of the apartment I shared with the piece of…  Charlie and I quickly got together.  We were dating less than a week when we decided to live together.  It was insane, but we’d felt it for so long, and held everything back – once we had each other, there was no keeping the intensity in check.  It was the real thing.  A partner…  and equal…  someone who’s humor, and heart were enough like mine, that we really felt things the same way…  someone so beautiful, that looking at him, when he wasn’t mine, could almost be painful…  and, once he was mine…  it was like a dream.  No one ever made me feel beautiful, until I was with Charlie.  I had really thought he was too beautiful for me.  I knew tat some people said I was attractive.  I could even accept that some people thought so, but…  I could never feel it.  I still don’t feel it, with any consistency.  I don’t always feel hideous, but pretty?  I just don’t see it.  And, I don’t think I photograph well, either.  I’ve been trying to get over that hang up by posting pix of myself on my pg, frequently.  And, not glamour shots…  real…  day-to-day, this-is-what-I-look-like-right-now, photos.

I walked away from a lot to be with Charlie because he really is a wonderful human being.  But…  waiting for him to want me, again, is killing me.  People keep telling me we need to talk, and I want to talk to him, but if I push him too soon, I know I’ll regret it.  I know him.  I know he dosn’t respond well to confrontation.  Even gentle, pleading confrontation… 

and, right now, my gut tells me, it’s just not time yet.  And, yes, lookingforward, it is driving me nuts, but…  the stakes are so high…  I have to do this right.  I can’t rush it, because I’m impatient, no matter how much I want to.  When he’s ready, or at least, more ready, we’ll talk.  But, if I push him, before he’s ready, he’ll say something I don’t want to hear.  Like, punishment, for pushing him, or something.  That’s happened, before.  Not recently, but it was also under really severe circumstances where he felt wronged.  Gonna smoke, now.