Sunday, May. 11, 2003
Tumble to the ground, posted at 3:28 a.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com In my head there lies a strange dissonance between super ego and no confidence. In looking at my romantic prospects, I think highly of myself while at the same time struggling with a dearth of confidence to do anything about it.On one hand, I think I'm sort of a catch. I'm a nice guy, in decent shape, with a good job. I like a wide array of interesting activites - from live music to film to theater to sports to running - and genuinely enjoy life and try to find the best in any situation. I'm a health nut and a hard work, and want to get married and have kids in the five years I have before I turn 30. In many ways, I'm the type of guy that women say they want but really don't want because otherwise why would I be perpetually single? But I digress. As my friend Felicity told me last night, "I can't believe you're single." Yup, neither can I, in a lot of ways.
This egotistical attitude towards my eligible bachelorhood is juxtaposed, however, with a lack of self-confidence that bleeds through and results in often crippling indecision. In Six Degrees of Separation, a character argues that "emotional paralysis" - the Holden Caulfield-esque inability to do things you really want to do because you're generally just too f*-ed up to do it for whatever reason - is the modern theme of literature. That's me. I never take plunges. I crush on girls who are in different states, after I blew years of chances. I barely make eye contact with beautiful redheads at bars, then come home and curse their blindness to my charm. I get into friendships more readily with girls I know are taken already. I cringe at the thought of friends setting me up.
If I can assess these qualities of myself, it seems like I could do something about it. Why I haven't, I don't know. Apparently something I thought was occurring back in Michigan isn't, at all, and this sucks. I feel pissed off and let down by it, but it's probably my fault for not accounting to just how massive a distance 600 miles is. Or my fault for some other reason. After all, it always is.
Now, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm doing this whole defensive, no-confidence arrangement with Renee. I keep getting needling from friends about asking her out on a real date, and am thinking about doing it. I'm hesitant, because I know her family well and I tend to mess up every relationship with a friend I've ever been in - including one in progress, but I digress - and don't want to disappoint the family if something doesn't work out. The other reason I'm hesitant is more complex. For a while it seemed like I would be doing it just to appease others or because it just seemed like the right thing to do. After all, we have so much in common. However, I once took that route about five years ago with a friend - everyone pressured me to pursue something more than friendshp with her, because we had so much in common. Yes, we did. The thing is, I hated myself at that point in my life. I weighed 300 pounds, was mildly depressed, and hated school. So I'm not going to like someone who was exactly like me. The attempt at the relationship didn't work out at all and our friendship was permanently bruised.
I'm in a different place in my life now, thankfully. Way different. I like myself. 110 pounds are still gone, my job is more rewarding than any job has any right to be, and I'm satisfied with my social life. So, pursuing someone who is like me isn't the same as it was four or five years ago. I like myself.
There is still part of me that thinks I should be with someone just a little more different than me. Someone very outgoing to counteract my natural subdued demeanor. Renee isn't that. She's quiet like me. There are occasionally lulls in conversation. But I was looking at her tonight from across the room during the house concert, and I just felt like it was the right thing to do - to pursue her. She is cute, athletic, loves baseball and music, like to read, has a good adult job, and, on paper, she's also a perfect girl. I am not sure if butterflies are there, but I might have put so many walls around my heart that butterflies cannot fly over it until part of that wall tumbles.
Let the tumbling begin.
At least, maybe.