Wake me up before you go-go,
Take me dancing tonight
So I'm never gonna dance again, guilty feet have got no rhythm,
So I'm never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you
Life's a dance you learn as you go,
Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss the dance
It’s natural
It’s chemical (let’s do it)
It’s logical
Habitual (can we do it?)
It’s sensual
But most of all ...
Sex is something..
Sorry got off track for a moment. The third and fourth ones aren't George Michael, and the last one..well my mind wandered for a moment.
Life is like a dance huh? I suppose I can see that.
I've been doing quite a bit of thinking lately {like that's something I don't already do entirely too much of} and I guess you could say I've realized that I think I'm missing the dance.
Not entirely, I mean I got all prettied up, put on my make-up, squeezed into my fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes and I went to the gymnasium, but that's where my dance stopped.
Instead of getting out on the floor and shaking my bon bon, I've stood on the sidelines and watched everyone else make fools of themselves. I watched everyone else - have fun.
I guess I should warn you now - this may be long, and it's probably going to ramble.
I've been talking to a new friend the past few days about life, how people process things in their lives and the ever nagging, yet never answered question in the back of every obsessive compulsive's mind - WHY?
Why do things happen the way they do?
Why they happen when they do?
Why do they always seem to happen to other people instead of me or vice versa?
I'm going to say something now that might sound completely ridiculous, but the people reading this who are like me, they will totally get it.
Some times being smart sucks ass. And I'm not specifically talking high IQ smart, or street smart, or book smart or any kind of smart classified by some kind of test.
I'm talking about being the kind of smart that refuses to ever ever ever let your brain rest. The kind that keeps you up because you're always thinking about something new you learned, or something you want to learn, or something you know you should have learned but didn't and can't quite figure out why you haven't.
Heck maybe that has nothing to do with being smart at all, maybe it's just my jacked up brain, but I do know I'm smart, and I honestly truly believe that if I were less intelligent, less of a 'thinking person' I'd be much more at peace with my life than I am now.
Things with PT and I are not going well. In fact they are close to falling over the edge of not going at all.
My life, the experiences I've had, my seeming inability to properly process things, and my insatiable desire to know why, how, what, when and why some more, about everything I come across just may have proven to be more than this particular 'relationship' can handle.
I've come to the conclusion that my emotional, physical and mental psyches have split personalities. Not like 'Hi Im Syble, No! I'm Syble!!' split personalities, more like opposite sides of a coin that are never able to mesh.
The Emotional: There is a part of me that is completely apathetic to life and everything in it. I don't care about work, school, friends, family, nothing. I really don't want to be bothered to hear about your day or how you're feeling. I just. don't. care.
Then there is a part that is, in the recent words of an old school friend, 'a brilliant empath'. I feel everything. About everything. I can read someone in a second just by looking at them and feel everything they feel, and desire to reach out in any way I can to help.
The Mental: It is what it is. Crap happens. Put on your big girl panties, deal with it and move on.
Why? Why did that happen? Why did he say that? Is that what he meant or was he trying to be nice? What if I were like that person, would I have more friends? Why, Why, Why?
The Physical: The physical I think is a combination of all three; physical, mental and emotional. On one hand I'm the nice girl, the good girl who believes in love and commitment and happily every after. That sharing yourself with someone is special and that someone can melt your soul with a kiss.
Then there's the girl who just wants to f**k. No strings, no attachments, no feelings, just physical, physical, physical. Wham, bam, thank you - you get the point.
In 32 years of life I have yet to figure out how to get any of those two sides of myself to peacefully coexist.
I lack the ability to deal in shades of gray. I'm either all one, or all the other, but never a healthy combination of any.
So - PT.
When PT and I first started talking I did not allow myself to be interested. He was young and I just wasn't going to go there. But he was cute and charming and funny and I finally said what the heck.
So we went out and if you haven't already done so, you can read about the absolutely most perfect first date ever -here-. The instant I met him something just clicked in me and I felt safe. I felt completely at ease, comfortable, good. I felt good about myself, I felt like I could be who I was, issues and all, and he would not look at me any differently.
I have to tell you, that is NOT something I feel often. I have only ever felt like that with one other person in my life and that was my ex-fiance. I'll let the EX part speak for itself.
So in talking to the friend I mentioned earlier and things PT has said, I've begun to realize that part of the reason things have gone so drastically wrong is how I reacted to that safe feeling.
When you go through your life never really feeling like you fit, never feeling like you belong in any group, or that anyone ever really understands you, and then you find someone who gives you that missing feeling you want to grab on to it for all it's worth.
So in trying too hard to 'keep a good thing' once I'd found it, I've inadvertently succeeded in pushing it away.
Right now things are very tense. He feels smothered, but he's leaving in a week so I want to cling. I've tried to back off and just be a friend, but everyone is different and it seems that where this is one of the times that my mental processing switches to the 'ok crap happened, move on' setting, he needs time to sort things out and get past stuff that's already happened before he can move on to everything 'being ok'. It sucks, and I'm sad and angry and hurt and confused and yet hopeful all at the same time.
I'm angry that my lack of male/female social interaction growing up has left me ill equipped to deal with situations like these.
I'm confused about why I can't seem to be ok with 'not knowing why'. Why I always push and push and push instead of just standing back and letting things happen in their own time.
I'm hurt and sad that my actions have caused him stress and anxiety.
Yet, I'm hopeful, because in spite of all of my spazzing out he still hasn't given up on me.
He's leaving this Thursday for Japan and we'll email. Maybe not as much as I'd like, and definitely not as much as the talking every day we have been doing, but it's something, and for now, in the bigger picture of how things have been and how they could have turned out - it's more than enough.
