What in the fuck is wrong with you, you faux-hemian gold-digging whore.

How dare you express joy in BFD’s situation and then gleefully describe what a horrible boyfriend he was and how I didn’t date him for very long, when you (1) never met him and (2) have no idea what you’re talking about.

Then, to criticize me when I told you that I take no joy in this, that I view this as a very sad situation.

Really?

You are a truly horrible person, who clearly does not believe in the existence of karma.

Last night, I hit a barbecue, drank cocktails, ate a ton of food, so this morning, I was anxious to hit the trail and work it off.

It was cold and damp, but I knew if I laced up and headed out, I would feel better.

The trail, which runs through a big park, relaxes me. I used to wander around it and find solutions to complex problems.

Today, I just kept seeing people who reminded me of BFD. I am sure I have mentioned that BFD and I are ethnically different, so the fact that a good 1/3 of the people I saw resembled him ethnically, did have me both laughing and shaking my fist at the sky, metaphorically, wondering WTF universe?!!!

So, I thought about him on the trail and it was not good — for him. I tried to envision a future with him and it was just so empty and unhappy. LP wormed his way into my thoughts of my BFD’d future and it was just ugly and sad.

Because I was so troubled, I doubled my workout, hoping to exercise away the demons. It did not work. I just saw more people who resembled BFD and my ipod lost charge in when I was still 7 minutes from my door.

Even a bad, troubling workout is still better than 90% of the other ways I could have spent the morning.

I could make plans to see BFD, but the truth is I am not unhappy sitting in bed, recharging the ipod and watching a truly terrible football game.

I am not calling BFD, not calling LP. I am just relaxing and grateful that the worst thing that happened to me today was being reminded of BFD and realizing over and over again how very wrong for each other we have been.

The past two days have been a whirlwind and an emotional rollercoaster. I have still not fully processed everything and I still have things seared into my memory and other little moments are bubbling up to the surface.

In addition to the emotional upheaval and drama with BFD, I have been dealing with a crushing reality about LP: I think we’re done. I do.

I know I may be overreacting (and I am definitely pre-menstrual), but I just feel it. Despite our wonderfully intimate and loving call late Monday night, I feel separated from him at a time when I need to feel connected to him.

Plus, his ex is using their child as a bludgeon, interfering with his ability to create a life as much as she can. Their custody arrangement is flexible and the kid goes back and forth almost every single day. That means she essentially controls his life. Still.

Somewhat disingenuously as we had set only a general “we’ll be together this week,” I texted him early Friday afternoon to say, “Were we on for tonight or tomorrow?” Forty minutes later, I heard back:
“Huh??? Did we discuss that? I have [the kid] both nights”

Here is the rest:

Me: Yes, on Monday night, we made general plans to see each other. You were confirming [the kid] schedule, but we were on for the weekend. 1:53 PM
LP: Well then i am sorry – i am having a very rough time balancing work and [the kid] and life right now 1:55 PM
Me: I’m sorry, too. I know it’s been rough on you, and I feel like a pest for even reaching out at all. 2:00 PM
LP: Sorry to make you feel like a pest 2:01 PM
Me: Sorry to be one. I want to be an alleviation of irritation and stress for you, not the cause. 2:08 PM
Me: Should we try to reschedule for Sunday or do you need some time to get things back into balance? 2:21 PM
Me: hey, i was just calling to check on you. you seem really stressed. i hope you and [the kid] have a great weekend and that you’re able to unwind a bit. 5:00 PM

So, there you have it.

Though I have not had LP’s voice on here before, it’s not an out of character text exchange. He can be, especially during work hours, very matter of fact. It’s not cold exactly, but it’s not warm either. He’s stressed out and distracted.

More importantly, despite his desire for me, which is deep and unabiding, he cannot balance out his life and his priorities. I am not a priority, which I shouldn’t be at this point.

The difficulty is that I get easily bored and I want him to be available to me. I want to have sex with him. I want to fall asleep in his arms. I am okay having to split time with the kid. I don’t want to see him every day, but I want to see him every week.

That is not happening, and I am not certain that any of it can happen, no matter how much he does want it. Because he does, just not more than he has to work and wants to be there for his child. I am okay with that. I don’t think he’s a bad person — in fact, I think he’s a great person. I am just not willing to wait forever for him to realize how he has to handle the reins. He is afraid right now and he is allowing himself to be manipulated, knowingly, to do the right thing for the kid.

I know that, and again, it’s part of what I love about him. But, it puts me in a difficult situation. While he is putting himself and his needs so low in priority, he is incapable of being the man I need him to be in our relationship.

So, I am stepping back. That does mean, to a certain extent, that I am downshifting how I think about him. For now, he cannot be my first thought if I need an escort or a party arises. He goes from being on the cusp of being my boyfriend — we’d had extensive conversations so he knew that sex = exclusive and monogamous — to man I am dating.

I had tears in my eyes during our text exchange because I know the truth. He’s not ready, though he thinks he is, and I am not ready to wait, though I wonder if he thinks I will.

It felt to me like a valediction. His silence, speaking volumes.

I am probably overreacting. This has happened before and it’s been okay, but he’s suffering and my presence is not helping. I know that. He needs two things — my loving support and my understanding. I know that, too.

Could this all be hormonal freak-out? Yes. But I am not sitting still. I am moving on. I am keeping a connection to him, not cutting him off or anything, but I am going to be dating other people . . . including perhaps BFD.

I know, I know.

BFD would not be the boyfriend either, but I may see if his Damascus Road conversion is real or not. I am not trusting what he is saying or doing right now. It’s nice that he finally appreciates me and see what I always wanted him to see about me — that I am strong and dynamic and successful and that I can be the person he has been looking for. He said to me at one point, “you are now my personal attorney” and I thought, motherfucker, I have always been your personal attorney, you just never allowed me to assume the mantle of handling things for you. The personal attorney thing is about connections, not about work. He said he always wanted to have someone who would be one phone call from anything he wanted. He is an idiot because even the depressed Planner was still capable of managing anything he ever needed. Ugh.

For more than a year, I could have made his life easier, less stressful, and he never appreciated me. He tried to turn me into something else, never seeing who I actually was, although I was with him on the mistaken journey. He thought he knew better about everything and all of his failed thinking is coming back to haunt him.

I was happy that he needed me because I knew (a) I could help, and (b) I was gaining his respect by doing it. He needed me at the single lowest moment of his life and there is real power in that, which I never had in our relationship. I liked having power over him and power in our relationship. Frankly, he liked it, too. He wanted me to act to do and I never did.

The truth of it all is that I am single-ish again. I hope I am wrong about LP and that he regains some semblance of control and figures out how to integrate me into his life. In the meantime, I am keeping all of my options open, including BFD.

BFD and I spoke late yesterday. He was definitely feeling better. He asked what I was doing this weekend, which is needless to say something he’s not asked me in a so long I don’t know if he ever did. I told him my plans to the symphony with N canceled, so I was not yet sure, but open, as was he, so he said “we should do something tomorrow.” Really? I said, okay, maybe a movie tomorrow. We talked about the workout I was skipping and then hung up. We spoke again once more and he’s chagrined but better.

This afternoon, I shot him a revised offer via email, but he responded back that he was not feeling well and countered for tomorrow afternoon. Knowing him as I do, we’re not on for tomorrow either, and I am already seeing A and possibly BP. Still, I accepted, knowing it costs me nothing since he will most assuredly cancel on me.

We are becoming friends in a way we have never been. I am still thinking of him very much as my ex. I am also accepting that I am his best friend. I am wary, but open to him. I do not forget that he walked away as I cried two weeks ago, that I then sat with LP and felt him hold me so tightly I could feel his arms on my ribs as he whispered in my ear.

I know who I am, for the first time in a long time. The last few weeks have been eye-opening for me and I am much less self-involved and much more open and loving to the people in my life. I feel different, more me. Part of that is the breakup with BFD, part of that was the loving warmth and acceptance from LP, but most of it is me getting a fucking grip.

I have no idea if I have a future with LP, and I fear I do not. I have no idea if BFD could be a changed man, understanding he needs to be tethered and corralled in order to be fully free. I have no idea what the next few weeks or months will bring.

What I do know is who I am, what I want, what I will never settle for. I am happier being single than being in a relationship that makes me deeply unhappy. I am not settling for less than I deserve, but I am also not closing any doors. I need to make no choices. There is no rush.

That’s what LP called me tonight as we wrapped up a short, intense call.  We have not spoken in over a week and we’ve been texting sporadically while he’s been working so much.

This evening, I had begun to get irritated, and I started to think about dating and whether I would tell people I were available and whether I’d see BFD again.

In short, I was being spoiled and cranky.

Around 1115, I was in bed, on the computer thinking through my very strange days when I got a text from LP that he was home, which was a surprise (to me).

He had pulled an all-nighter last night, out of town, and flew back tonight from the east coast, a long trip.  He texted when he he got home, after he crawled into bed, thinking about me.  Of course.

I was still up, so we texted for 15 minutes, driving each other to distraction, then a 6:30 minute call.  We are nothing, if not efficient.  I love to hear his voice, to hear him breathing, to know that he loves my “beautiful face” and how I kiss.

Lying here in the dark, I listened to him tell me his plans for when we are actually together again. I asked him something specific, and he said, “anything you want, I will do.”  And he means it.  I know he wants to make me happy.  I want to make him happy.

We have not yet had sex.  We have really not come close to having sex, but now after 5 weeks, we cannot wait to at least begin moving down that path.

As we were wrapping up the call, we just wanted so desperately to reach out to touch each other, separated by a whole three miles.  He was completely exhausted, but I was tempted to say, put your jammies on and pick me up. Let me spend the night with you.  But I didn’t.

Instead we talked calendar — he has to find out when he has the kid (and said, since it was then 1130, that it was too late to call) — and just luxuriated in the sound of the other’s voice and breathing.  I told him how much I missed him and how I’d not reached out, knowing how busy he’d been.  He was grateful for my thoughtfulness.  We called each other sweetie and just paused and breathed in and out and listened to the other, talking about how much we can’t wait to see each other.  He told me that he loved just getting a drink with me, just hanging out.  I reminded him how much I loved falling asleep in his arms.

It’s late and I am tired so I can’t remember the transition, but he called me “my love,” and it hung there briefly, but we smiled into it.  There was no real tension to it, but he was tired and it slipped out.  We’re not there yet, but we will be.  It felt natural and organic, almost more than him calling me by my full first name earlier.

Even after we said our final good night, we kept the line open for a few seconds.  I need that connection.  I missed his voice, I missed how I feel when we’re connected.  I missed his intensity.

I have been so confident about our connection since we met.. Since we reconnected. Since we began actually seeing each other.

It’s scary for me to trust my instinct, but it feels solid and true and real and serious.  He knows it, too.  We agreed to be open and honest, despite how very scary it is to be that vulnerable.

This week, our relationship will be changing at least slightly.  We will become physically intimate.

We are both grammar nerds and we are often texting, which we can do no matter what calls we’re on or meetings we are in.  I have often teased him about using the conditional mood instead of the future tense: “I could do …” “I would do …” I always speak to him in future tense: “I will see you tonight” “I will kiss you”

We are still early in this, still figuring it all out, but I know we will get closer and we will continue to enjoy each other.

The different between a narcissist and a normal, even self-involved, person is that a narcissist thinks only, “how does this affect me?” no matter what you tell him.

They may have a passing thought: “I hope she’s okay,” but the real thought “how does this affect me?”

I was reminded of this in talking to A over the weekend, who, upon realizing I was in financial straits actually texted me: “the condo is not in danger, right?”  No, asshole, the condo is not in danger.

I may not be able to eat, but the condo you eventually want to buy from me will still be available.  I pointed this out and shamed him.  His response “I’m sorry. I feel bad that i’m such a navel gazer. Just can’t help it.//I have a therapist, btw.”

Yeah.  Amazing.

I just spoke with BFD who again does not listen when I am speaking about something he does not want to hear at that moment.  It’s actually quite shocking to me when it happens.  Like, again?!!!!

Meanwhile, I am missing LP terribly.  LP, who actually listens.  LP, who wants to hear what I have to say because I want to say it.  He is away at a big important thing.  I texted him this morning best wishes for a successful day, which I knew he loved.  Instead of telling him how I felt — miss you! — I just let him know I want him to be well.

That’s the difference, and, frankly, it’s why we’re together right now.  We’re very self-centered, but our first thoughts are never “omg, how does this affect me?”

I have stopped posting every day for no good reason except that I am boring, busy, and giddily involved in a new relationship where we’re being adorable for no good reason.

I mean, how interesting would “googled LP again, he’s even cooler than I thought” be?  Okay, maybe a little interesting . . .

I am dealing with BFD-related fallout from my friends, who are “supportively” reminding me “We like him, we just don’t like him with you.”  Except they don’t like him.  They don’t even know him.  They like the idea of him because he’s cool and a big fucking deal.  He only existed for them because of me.  BFD is a good person — he is kind and generous — he’s just a terrible boyfriend who is almost pathologically ill-suited for me.

He’s what I thought I wanted and the fact that he loved me — and frankly still does, in his way — meant something to me.  But the fact remains that he was terrible for me and I was terrible for him.  It’s okay and it happens.  We should have been happy together.  We had some things in common, we’re smart and cultured, we shared philanthropic passions, we had energetic, great sex.  It wasn’t enough.  It could never have been enough.

Relationships are about compromise and sacrifice.  Since I am a serial monogamist in long relationships, I always tell my friends that you have to spend the first few months learning to speak the same language, knowing that when he says “X” he actually means “I hated when my mother did that and it’s making me stabby.”

BFD and I knew each other well in some important ways, but there were so many gaps on a purely day-to-day level, and yet we knew each other that way, too.  It’s easy to dismiss what we had.  JerkFace loves to refer to it as “my friendship” with BFD.  Because JerkFace is an AssHole.  I refuse to play that game — we cared for each other, we loved each other, we took care of each other in small ways, and we enjoyed our time together.  We were still ill-suited for each other and my hope is that BFD will find someone who will make him happy, who will embrace his quirks and idiosyncrasies, and who will be more confident in telling him “no.”

I rarely felt like myself with him.  I was frustrated that he did not know me as successful and confident.  When he saw me that way, it was amazing, but I was withdrawn and tentative with him, which is not how I am.

(Yes, you all knew this all along.  And I adore you for it.)

I kept hoping that if I did what I was supposed to, if my deal closed, then it would shift the balance of power.  And it might have.  But the lingering doubt in my head was that it still wasn’t right . . . that I was bored, which is the kiss of death for me.  And I was bored.

The main thing I look for in a partner is really someone I find interesting.  I stayed with A for years because he was smart and funny and had such a unique perspective.  He’s also a guru, really, and fascinating.  I still love hanging out and talking to him and we’ve known each other nearly a decade.

That is a very high bar for a new person.  Interesting and able to hold my attention.

I am not certain that LP will be able to hold my attention long-term, but we had an extremely intense conversation on the Thursday night of that first week.  It was fascinating and exhilarating to connect with him intellectually, though he is much smarter than I am.  I mentioned one of my areas of philosophic interest . . . he had written on it for publication.  Of course.  It’s obscure and it’s a particular interest for us both, which is extremely cool.

LP and I have expressed some amused frustration that it took us so long to reconnect.  We are wistful about missed opportunities, etc., but as I remind him, we would not have been ready.  Truly, I was not ready until the moment I knew I had to call him.  I credit JFG (JerkFace’s Girlfriend) for finally kicking my ass when I was most receptive to it and telling me “you deserve to be happy!”  Right!  I do!  But I was not there before.  As soon as she said that and I acknowledged how deeply unhappy I was and that I deserved more, I thought about LP.  No matter how wonderful it would have been to have been with him during the festival or at a dinner or for my birthday or at my cousin’s wedding, we were not ready for each other.

I often jump from relationship to relationship.  I am rarely single, and, if I am single, I have a close friend who escorts me places and takes me to dinner.  Yeah, I know. Even now that I am dating LP, I still have N escorting me to cultural stuff, W taking me to dinners and parties, and BP being BP.

This feels different.  He’s very involved and present.  He’s very warm and open.

I am enjoying this feeling of overwhelming happiness.  I am not overthinking it.  I am, instead, trusting how I feel.  Trusting him.  Trusting my instincts.

I have floated home.  Okay, maybe not floated, but I am still beaming 3 hours after I last kissed LP.

LP works absurdly hard and right now, his schedule is insane.  He is working 7 days a week, often 18 hours a day.  Needless to say, we don’t have a lot of time to spend together.

This morning, I knew I’d be downtown tonight, so I texted to say that I will be downtown for a show, I will carve out 10 minutes to kiss you, and I will brook no refusal.

It was audacious, but our thing is to be vulnerable, open, expressive, honest.  I wanted it to happen, so I told him it will.  I heard nothing back.  5 hours later (2 hours before I was heading downtown) I texted him “Will be downtown at 730, when can you spare 10 minutes.”  I specifically asked him when, not if.  Again, I heard nothing.

My plans with my friends went a little sideways, so I decided to head down at 830 intead of 730.  At 745, I got a text “I am here.”  I told him about the delay, but he said he may go home since he’d been in the office since 330 am.  Yikes.

I told him I’d text when I was 10 minutes out, but that I understood if he went home and to bed.  I got ready assuming I’d not see him, but I still wanted to look kinda cute (black pencil skirt, bright 3/4 t-shirt, black cashmere v-neck, patent ballet flats).  On the bus, I texted him that I was 10 away and he replied back that he was “still here” and would go downstairs.  We text flirted until I disembarked.  Somehow, we missed each other, so he walked up to me still in full view of his lobby.  I waited to hug him until we were slightly obscured.

There is something so perfect about wrapping my arms around him.  He’s adorable and handsome and just present.  I hugged him tightly while I said, “you look terrible!”  Because he did — drawn, exhausted, grey.  He said, Oh, that’s awful!” He said I looked great, and “snazzy.” I kissed him and I held his hand and he said, “okay, let’s grab a drink,” which is odd since he really does not drink, nor do I.

As we walked across the street to a brand new bar next to the place where we met, he said, I have to tell you what’s happening . . .  [with growing excitement] and you’ll understand because you’re a lawyer!  I smiled at him, thinking, yeah, not bloody likely, but take your best shot.

The place was empty, except for a sole bartender, so we sat at the bar, ordered cocktails (which is unusual because neither of us really drink) and he started to tell me everything that was happening and why he’s working so much etc.  It was fascinating, actually, managing his work, managing the egos of his partners, etc.  He’s a big deal and it is hard because he’s still relatively young to have so much responsibility.  He also told me that he had another insane deadline after this one — and he’ll be traveling.  Grrrr.

He vented for 10 minutes straight about work, grateful that I understood him — both what the issues are and what he needed, which was was to vent his frustrations to someone who cares.  I kept my hand on his thigh as he spoke.  At one point, I asked if it was okay, and he grabbed my hand, squeeezed it, and moved it higher up his thigh.  From time to time, we kissed.

When he finished, he was so grateful that I care for him, that I held his hand, and stroked his thigh, and was present for him as he spoke.  He is himself with me — dramatic and quirky and arrogant, but very, very real. Because I know what he does, because he tells me his interactions with other people, I know he can be hard and demanding, but I know that like me, all he really wants is to be loved and accepted and understood. No matter the surface, that’s the reality.

He finished telling me how horrible everything is that work is so crazy that he’s not seen his kid, his therapist (and forgot to cancel — leading the therapist to freak out a little and call him “to make sure you’re not dead”), or remembered to call his father for his birthday.

Then he turned to me  and said okay, tell me about your horrible day, so I did. I told him I was editing it but that I cried in front of BFD because he was making me confront the horrible pressure I am under while I am trying to get things done and that he walked away from me while I cried.

I leaned in to LP and said, honey, I know we’re kinda narcissists, but our exes are hardcore narcissists and I know [BFD] was incapable of hearing what I was saying or comforting me and that while this was going on, all I knew was that “[LP] would NEVER have reacted that way.” He smiled and agreed and then told me an anecdote about his ex who, when he complained about work, told him to quit his job and then made it about her.

[BFD made the source of my pain about him, which separated him from me in my pain.  It's hard for me to describe how hardened I am towards BFD. His attitude yesterday -- pushing when I needed to be held, questioning when I needed encouragement -- I realized he could never be the man I need or want . . . and that the man I need and want was 10 blocks away in his office kicking ass and taking names.]

LP and I spoke about our spending the night together and how much we loved it and how much we can’t wait to do it again.  By this point, we were kissing a bit, not caring about the bartender, the table of people seated in a banquette behind us, or the strong lighting around us.  We needed to kiss each other, though we avoided a full-on make-out session.

He told me, whispered in my ear actually, when I stood and wrapped my arms around him that he’d had a very intense sex dream about me a couple of nights ago . . . and that I was amazing.  I laughed and said, I did not know if i would measure up to his amazing dream.

He told me toward the end of our time together that he’s glad we’re taking it slow, but he really wants to have sex with me.  Soon.

I am definitely with him on that.

[On Saturday, we started exchanging texts while he worked.  I am often provocative with him, which is something he loves and something I'd not been comfortable being since pre-A.  (With BP and BFD, I would be responsive, but they always initiated it.)  So we came up with a "reward" when he finishes his project.  Frankly, I don't know which one of us is looking forward to it more.]

As we walked outside and kissed on the patio, I told him I wanted to send him more photos.  He’s not on facebook, so his only pictures of me are ones I send him.  He sends me photos regularly, which is adorable, and lets me be a part of where he is and what he’s doing.  He was so happy, even though I let him know they were just pictures and nothing intimate, but he just loves to see my face.

I texted him again as I walked down the street to meet my friends and he returned to the office, to let him know how much I loved seeing him and how amazing it is to share with someone who understands: “That you’re hot and a great kisser is just bonus.”

He was on my mind as I had club soda with my friends before we went to a show.  I spent a lot of time talking about things semi-related to LP and his ex and I slipped and called him my boyfriend and then corrected myself.

But he feels like my boyfriend.  He is the only man I want to see, the only man I want to kiss, and the only man I want to sleep with.  (And at this point, I really want to sleep with him.)  We know enough of each other by this point to expect it will be great.  The passion we share for each other is overwhelming enough to ensure it.

He listened to me, he understood me, and he embraced me.  All of that underscored the horribleness from BFD earlier that afternoon.  LP is here for me, I am here for him, and we are making sacrifices and taking risks just to see each other.  He laughed that he’s not seen or done anything, but he made time to see me.  He said it full of import — he mentioned in the same breath that the kid has wanted to see him for the last 4 days and he has not been able to — but he made time to see me.

We are better together than either of us is apart.  It’s really beautiful so far.