Saturday, January 27, 2007

A Narrow Escape

I’ve made no secret about the clusterf*ck of emotions I’ve been experiencing lately. They have made me feel like a PMSing lab rat on a mixture of crystal meth and vicodine running through a mad scientists’ maze-o-romance – bouncing from one emotion to another, having no clue where I’m going, experiencing euphoric highs and lows, running into walls and dead ends trying to solve the biggest relationship puzzle of all: what do I want?

The Canadian is coming into town this weekend. He’ll be here for the week.

Obviously this posed more than one moral, emotional and ethical dillemas: #1. I’ve been pissed off at all things north of the border since this year began, I haven’t seen him in 9 months, and …well…there’s a redheaded temper involved.

#2. The obvious problem of the Russian.

#3. I still care about the Canadian – 3 years is the longest I’ve been with anyone! (even if it HAS been off and on).

And so confused and bewildered, I called the smartest gals I know to chat about the situation.

After explaining the scenario – one vote was unanimous – ‘he can’t stay with you.’Well how do I get around THAT!?‘Just be honest’wha? Huh? Honest? But I’m so worried about hurting him! A concern to which Travel Girl replied: “don’t worry about his feelings. He didn’t worry about yours.” – fair point.

Sigh. They were right. I couldn’t have him stay with me. I don’t know how I feel about him right now and I don’t think a co-habitational scenario would be an optimal setting to explore whatever feelings those turn out to be. And so I took a deep breath and told him – I don’t want you staying with me next week. (Please be advised, he lived here for many years and his best friends live here (many of which I’ve never MET - another sore subject - so I’m not exactly leaving him out in the cold).

He sounded very disappointed but can I tell you, it lifted SUCH a weight off my head. I’ve never said ‘no’ to this man. I’ve always forgiven him, shoved everything under the rug while things were going well…never said ‘I’m sorry but you can’t have everything you want when you want it’. So that was a big deal.

The bigger problem is though is that I have no idea what’s going to happen when I see him. Yes, I’m with the Russian. I love the Russian (ya, I said it, shut up). But there’s a part of me that isn’t quite ready to let the Canadian go. Because he’s been my safety net? Because I’ve been chasing him for SOOOO long? Because I had a plan for my life – and now it’s taken an unexpected turn and I’m not quite ready to veer off that familiar road? What if things go wrong with the Russian and I suddenly find myself stranded along the roadside!?

And then I realized, well, more like nodded along when TravelGirl reminded me: 'being single is better than settling.' And she’s right. So right.

Just when I thought running this vehicle into a lamp post would be less painful than dissecting the components of the complex variables in these relationships, Hey Pretty advised “I think the more important issue is that you don’t define your needs in terms of “option A: The Canadian” or Option B: the Russian. Even if you weren’t happy with the Russian, the situation with the Canadian would still not be good.” And how right she is.

Oh how I love you, my girlfriends.

Being with the Russian doesn’t change the fact that I cried over the phone to Canada for 45 minutes on New Year’s Eve to no avail. Or that the relationship is always defined by the Canadian. Or that it feels as though I’ve been dragging him kicking and screaming through this relationship since 2003.

So, needless to say, that when the Canadian and I DO meet up this next week – we’ll have a lot to say to each other.

In the meantime, I am doing what any gal in a dysfunctional relationship with a passive aggressive law student that is flying into Regan airport at 6 p.m. that she hasn’t seen in 9 months and has fallen for someone else would do….I’m leaving the scene of the crime at 5:55 p.m. and flying out to see the man I hope to have a HEALTHY relationship with for the weekend.
Perhaps I am delaying the inevitable. Perhaps that's the point.

Either way, my bags are packed with silky, lacy treats from Vicki’s and I go to the airport in just a few short hours.
I’m looking forward to the weekend escape because that’s just what it will be. I just hope there's a cure for cancer at the end of this maze to make it all worth while!


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