I Love You

Well. Look what I've gotten myself into now.

Also, so much for blogging more often. Story of my life.

Anyways, I've managed to stay in this relationship. Been 14 months now. Woo! Yea, no, things got better from that last entry. But I mean, on here, my most commonly used phrase is "things got better." Not that I'm lying. That just seems to be the pattern. And possibly maybe they'll get worse, since that is the usual follow up from the former. I digress though.

We've made enough progress that I agreed to move in to his apartment when my lease came up in November. I had started staying overnight a few times a week for a bit before then leading up to it, so I guess it wasn't too much of a surprise. Though it was interesting and slightly funny; I had thought about the notion for a little bit when I was getting closer to moving out, but I knew there was no way in hell I was ever going to say something. I'm still playing that card I guess, being afraid of being the too needy clingy committed girlfriend. However, the most interesting and slightly funny part was that he suggested it instead. There was really not much pretense there, I wasn't going to say anything and was content on an apartment search and was, well, quite frankly, oblivious to the idea that he even cared that much. Once again, up to that point, I had heard NOTHING on his end about how he actually felt for me. And I was petrified I was going to end up that girl who really loves this boyfriend she's living with, and he's just in it cuz it's convenient for him but doesn't have any feelings past that. That's a horribly scary feeling you know. We had been together for almost a year at that point, and I wasn't even sure what his long term intentions were. The few "serious" talks we had often led to him talking about how in all the relationships he was in, he had known from the start they weren't going to work or for him, yet he stayed in them for like two years. I was more than terrified that I would get to that two years and mean nothing. And all along, he would have known that.

Sidenote: I'm still pretty scared of that. It's been soothed a decent amount, but it's still there. We'll hit that again.

The funny thing is that when I started taking him along to look at potential apartment options, every time he would actually speak candidly about the relationship and be a little more open. Unfortunately, I had (and still have) a problem being clear and verbal about how I felt with our situation. My mind just gets blocked and I can't spit anything out. But I wanted to know that at least down the road, providing there wasn't something serious that would end it, he was planning to stick with me and have me in his life. I had no intention of leaving, and I needed to know he felt the same.

Now, it's easy to see that my perception of myself and what relationships are clouded my mind a decent amount in this whole relationship, but it seemed dangerous that we didn't even acknowledge a future with each other when this notion came up. Which was another talk. And where my perception and defense mechanisms did nothing in my favor. There was no mention of futures or love or marriages because I hissed and fanged at it, made fun of it, mocked it, and generally hated it. Well yes, we know this, that's practically what this blog was founded off of. But he's a guy, and apparently was too oblivious to understand I did this because I wanted it and didn't think I could ever obtain it. So he wasn't going to say anything. It's like, a huge wound that to this day is still healing I think. And it's funny, cuz that hurts so much feeling like I can't obtain it. It's like double wounds but now for all different reasons.

And he never opened up much about himself or his past or even past relationships, girlfriends, family, or otherwise. And without opening up, why would I live with the person? How could I say I knew him? And again, each time after we were done looking at apartments, he would. I spent at least a month analyzing and debating what I wanted to do in this situation. As the girl, I always wanted to spend time with him and be around him, but I'm not a big fan of "convenient commitment," which is how I categorize most shacking up situations. It's commitment, kind of, for as long as it's convenient for the person. Then you're done and you move on to the next convenient commitment. Without anything more like that paper or ring, you can freely and easily do this for as long as you want. And that makes it hard to trust the relationship.

I guess in the end, I wanted to try it. I never believed I'd be in a relationship, let alone one approaching a year with a person who wanted to share his home with me. That just wasn't going to happen. I figured it may be the only chance I'll ever have, and I liked the guy, and he was such a better person than I ever thought I'd get or deserved to begin with. I felt safe, to say the least, and I guess that was half the battle. He honestly saw the next step in relationships as living together and well, that's what this society tells us and goes by, so I guess I had to follow it. I did get worried if I said no he'd break up with me since we wouldn't be able to "escalate" the relationship and try something new. But in the end, it was ultimately my choice and my curiosity and well, my rebellious nature that gave me my decision. Also, cheaper rent.

Since we've lived together, things haven't been too tough. We often have a natural way of getting along with each other, and when we go out and do things, we get along even easier. It helps we share the same childishness and love of theme parks and water parks and halloween and haunted things, so when the year anniversary came around, we spent the weekend hitting up as many haunted places in the cities we could get to. And he has gotten better with giving me compliments and telling me how he feels. He's an action kind of person (seriously, that's his love language), and I can see it in how he regards me and remembers things. 

It's not all perfect, obviously. I battle with sometimes feeling aced out, especially by his cell phone. I think I prefer to show my feelings by being more physical (not the sex thing), and I often wish he'd just play with my hair or my skin and just idly run his fingers all over me. I do it all the time to him, and touch his face a lot, and he never does any of it to me. Maybe I just have to speak up with that. And I've had a few breakdowns and times when I really felt like he didn't care, and quite often it's from a perception that I wanted to spend a little more "one-on-one" time (or what I defined it to be), and he didn't see it so didn't do it. Or I wanted a romp in the sack, and nothing I did seemed to convince him to come with me.

Ah, sex is a bit of the sore spot. I'm either a nymphomaniac or hornball whore, or he has considerably low testosterone. Guess we don't see eye to eye on how often things should happen or on what we define sex as. I see it as a huge release of the stress and tension of the day, and can take it... Well, a lot, we'll just say that. And sometimes I feel he sees it as work. It's not a reliever for him. Well, sort of, but it's physical work to relieve something, and that can just be too much work. And I can feel neglected and even ugly and often wonder why he doesn't just play with my body and stick his hands down my pants to make me feel good when I tend to do that a decent amount to him. I wonder why I'm the only one that gives head and I wonder what that says about my body. It's more of the insecurity than frequency problem I think. It makes me incredibly insecure.

But, we're even working on that. And slowly I'll get better at vocalizing what I liked him doing and reinforce him when he makes the first moves and we'll be fine. First relationship for this girl, remember, and this kind of communication stuff is going to take a bit for me.

And the last stop on my now bitch festing blog, the thing that easily is wearing on me the most but that I try to put out of my mind: It's been over a year and I live with the guy, but we haven't said I love you once. Not even in accidental passing or accidental almost. No almost slips, no signs that the notion is even there. This was one fear I had before moving in that is being realized. I thought it strange to live with someone when you haven't even said I love you. Shouldn't you love the person you're living with? I got a lot of feedback from people about this, family, friends, married, not, and the general consensus was "love will come, don't ruin a good thing." But now, I know how emotionally attached and connected we are with each other, and I feel we are companions, I've been told by people that they can see he loves me and that I should marry the guy, and even my dad says he can see how much this guy cares for me, so why has it not been said? I'm deathly afraid, I can't do it, I can't seal my coffin with that last nail. Yes, it's been hard to know what love is, especially for me in this new territory, but I have no doubt he's said it before to other girls and probably meant it. I'm scared I'm just not it. You can have all these feelings for another person, care, loyalty, respect, trust, but this other person can just be a roommate, a really good friend. What if I'm a roommate and that's it? I've battled with myself a lot about if I was in love or not, and yea, it's hard for me to figure out or understand. I've gone from not really caring to I think loving the idea of being in love but not loving him, to what I think is quite genuine love. I know how my body feels and acts and reacts around him or apart, in private, in public. I can feel from how he acts and reacts around me in these settings too. And I know I was going to be careful and not just feel and fall in the infatuation puppy love state (tho ironically that never really happened), but at this point, I don't think this is that. And it does desperately wear on my mind, and I can usually keep it out and at bay, but every so often it rears its ugly head and I don't know what to do or where to go with it. What do I do now? Say it? Fuck no, I mean, isn't that what guys are afraid of? But he doesn't act like most guys and he's been hurt... But at some point, if you felt something, wouldn't you just have to say it? He suggested the moving in thing first after all.... But I don't want this to just be a passing statement. It should mean something. And maybe I'll never know. I figure I'll make it to a year and a half and finally ask where this is actually going. Dating ends two ways: Break up or get married. Getting married implies you love the person. I'm still afraid that after two years I'll have turned out to be nothing, and the way it often feels, this may be the case.