is it good for you?

Jimmy Eat World ‘Hear You Me’

I read my sister’s girlie magazine many women I know consider a point of zen and holy scripture. I’m of course talking about Cosmopolitan. There’s nothing specifically wrong with it, but still being the same girl, I tend to shy away from such literature. I peruse Glamour and Vanity Fair, read the articles on crisis’ around the globe, domestic abuse, and any other depressing serious articles I come across in a quick flip-through the day it’s delivered. However, this time, I was struggling to find a use of my time, so I picked up her latest issue, ignoring the ‘Bedside Astrologer’ insert that slipped out and fell into my lap, and began the backwards really-bored flip that all girls know with those familiar, feminine dust-collectors.

The pages stopped on a short article with a thick fragrance insert beside it. Of course. The title? ‘Friends-With-Benefits Truths’. Sigh. Gosh, here we go. As much as it really just hit a nerve, and how I already knew what I was about to read, I started in on the text like it’d self-destruct in a few seconds, Mission Impossible style.

Here’s a review (and my commentary following) for those of you who don’t allow yourselves to be the receiving end of an emotional punching bag:

…Rules. How often can I see him, and when/if I should call. ‘Having a talk’ is important and conducive to making it an easier situation.

Isn’t the ‘talk’ what one or the other of us is trying to avoid? In this case it’s Auto, but either way, friends with benefits is the best romance and relationship escapism you can get if you’re moral enough to avoid strings of one-night stands. Friends with benefits are for convenience, and are pretty no strings attached, so why would you work out arrangements?

…Attachment. Orgasms make you feel closer. The association of sex with them, and your emotions becomes stronger. Casual sex isn’t necessarily without meaning. You may end up being more affectionate with them in non-sexual ways as well.

Duh. If you can actually, umm, get me there, chances are I’m going to end up feeling kinda close to you…especially considering we’re both, umm, naked? Yeah. And, of course when I think about sex, I’m going to think about him. As for the casual sex not being meaningless sex, well, I did learn that the hard way. I recalled, while reading the page, how I asked Auto, ‘Why can’t two people, friends, just have amazing sex, and just hang out? What’s wrong with that??’. I admit my motives were mostly for continuing a mutually beneficial arrangement (we were both hot for each other, so what’s relapsing, honestly) but were also to gain a closeness and a foot back in the ‘door’. I also recalled him agreeing with me, but adding, ‘It’d be nice, I miss you so much, but I feel like it would make things harder for me, more screwed up…’ He was smarter than me then, but suddenly, something made him cave, and we went back to our old ways. Anyway, every-time, after the euphoria and his cologne wear off, I feel the familiar sting of ‘I know better’.

…Odds. Romance and a relationship happening out of Friends With Benefits is next to none. Unrequited. A transitional thing.

Ouch. That was a close-my-eyes-and-wince moment. Not that I was surprised, but to see the proof, the ‘told you so’ in black and white, right there in front of me, was salt in the wound. The longer this goes on, the more I notice the slow, steady improvement, and the more hopeful I get. I feel like we’ve come a long way, crossed a few tough spots (like leaving me for his ex, and getting ditched again, possibly getting over her?, trust, me falling for his best friend and the ensuing romance that abruptly ended, trust, meeting family, meeting friends, almost a year’s time with each other) and seem to get along well, and are quite comfortable with each other. Then again, it’s only time. I have the constant feeling, the farther I fall for him, that he has to know if he really wanted me, he could have me.

So here I wonder: is it better because we’re settling into a convenient mutual un-relationship? Or, is it time that we need? Here I wonder if all the questions about being ‘the only one’, the affirmations, the relief, are they stemming from plain old jealousy, or are genuine feelings the root? Months ago, an unexpected situation played out when Auto turned to me during a commercial break and said, ‘I have feelings for you. I do.’ and turned back to the show that came back on. I only awkwardly nodded in response. Great job, I thought. Was he for real? Why else would he say that?? Going back to ‘Rules’, I never bring up the subject, knowing (figuring) what his response will be–’things are just screwed up right now’ for him. So I let it lie, and hold on, hold out.

Should I continue to sit and wait? It’s not really hurting me, and I’m somewhat happy with the situation, conscious that it’s what works best for him. I don’t want to upset the delicate balance between ‘just friends’ and ‘whatever we’re doing’. After all, I’ve held onto him this long, I don’t want to lose my grasp. At least, I think I’ve held him, but sometimes, we’ll go so long, I forget what it feels like.

it’s not so bad

Rocco DeLuca ‘How Fast’ 

Well I caved, and called. I had a short soliloquy with his voice-mail. I’m waiting. Typical Auto, but still mildly frustrating. Tonight? Tomorrow night? This weekend? Who knows.

I’m also waiting for an explaination from Mr. Darcy. I’ve been there before, most recently with Auto, so I suppose I understand the emotional attachment and the pain, but as a friend, I’d like the other shoe to drop so to speak. I always end up helping, sitting someone down (even if it’s just over the phone) for a Dr. Phil session, although in joking, concern isn’t one of my winning qualities. Maybe I’m unusually curious as to his mental state, but isn’t that a privledge I’ve earned? I was Mrs. Darcy once upon a time, and it’s my duty as the ’still friends’ to poke and prod. Tune in next time when I expound on the habits and heartbreak of the male gender.

I can already feel the tension and anticipation.

leave a message after the beeeeeeep

Three Days Grace ‘Take Me Under’ 

It’d just mock me if I called, that tone would. He’s there. He’ll talk to me to his hearts content, hours on end, but I’m positive wouldn’t pick up his phone to talk ‘in person’. So I’m left downstairs, on the non-instant message computer, feeling lame and lonely, cut off and stuck with another restless night. I really did wake up at least five times last night, aware it was more the unfinished conversation and the growing seperation, and less first-day-on-the-job anxiety.

I’d say I’m trying to control myself, face the inevitable that one day I’ll have to do without him for real. It should be easy considering I don’t have him, have him, but it’s not. And, I’d be lying if I said I was actually trying to pull myself away. There’s something about crossed arms which make you want to be wrapped up in them that much more.

Boys do make passes at girls who wear glasses

Red ‘Pieces’

There’s a reason for the geeks and nerds getting-action revolution: looking for the anti-you. Otherwise, you’re just in love with yourself aren’t you? Yeah, you are, but gosh, that’s terribly unattractive. No one wants to covers-fight with a narcissist. Oh, and we’re all looking for what’s dead wrong for us. For the most part, we stick to people like us. So you’d think I’d go for a quiet, thoughtful, philosophical type with an avid interest in English, the fine arts, spontaneity, and lessons in romantics. Somewhere along the road I realized that isn’t the whole me, and I’ve ’shifted’ to the gear-head (get it? remember, I am part-nerd and therefore shamelessly able to pull out themed metaphors) who loves thoughtful moments, sarcasm, loud, hard…rock and roll, hiding feelings, a death wish and an odd love for being alone. Yes, sir, with that, I want to walk off the market.

Oh, and human nature has a funny way of drawing us to exactly what’s not the best for us. It’s the person sleeping beside you, and the person in the mirror.

Under-stimulation carousel

Feist ‘So Sorry’

I’m going to resist repeating myself. So instead of droning on and on I’ll grab for the golden ring (sigh) and maybe I’ll win a prize at the end of the night. I’ll sleep better.

Distraction.

O says to me one day on an outing with him one afternoon, ‘You’re one of the hardest people to buy presents for because you’re so anti-Yes’. Well. Now that I think about it, I don’t really know where I stand. On anything. There are so many things I don’t want done for me, so many things I gratefully refuse. What are the sums of all the things I don’t care about? Something to chew on I suppose. ‘You are so many lemons because you are so bitter’ (thanks, Kate). Then where does the forgiveness come from?

 Ah, I’m stupid. I forgot.

Commitments section

Kate Nash ‘We Get On’ 

One of my closest friends in high school just got married to her high school sweetheart. That would be nice to do, I think. Except I never had a high school boy. I had one in mind, but much like now, I never had the courage to show him how I felt.

I’m so happy for her, and I want the same thing so badly. I’m 22…shouldn’t I be ready to not settle? Shouldn’t I be ready to get feisty and take on the world, have a ball, explore, meet people, have tons of drunken, irresponsible fun? No. I am tired. I feel used. I want to settle, and I want to settle down. Mr. Right is Mr. Right Now. Although that’s selling Auto short–he is everything I seem to have always wanted (minus the military fetish, ha ha). The truth is, it’s sad how the world, the dating scene, the expectations that have evolved give some of us the urge to…throw in the towel.

Plus, as much as I’ve fought it, I’m still a silly little girl who wants the white dress, the perfect man, and the happy ending. The best chance I’ve got for that is arriving at his house with a white nightie and a six-pack.

What we’re all angling for is love. Sure I want it, but it’s got to be the right one. Lucky for some, they’ve already found them. Congratulations Steph.

get on with it

Tool ‘Sober’

That’s what came up on my ipod in ’shuffle’ mode, but I’ve got a lines from a Jet song stuck on repeat…’take my photo off the wall if it just won’t sing for you/’cause all that’s left has gone away and there’s nothing there for you to prove/oh, look what you’ve done/you’ve made a fool of everyone/oh, well, it seemed like such fun until you lose what you have won’

Now to my ramble/rant for the evening. I keep hearing the phrase (or expression, with it’s frequency of late) lately how the person in control of a relationship of whatever kind is the one that cares less. The one that loves less. It’s true, quite obviously. There’s always the one who follows after the other, panting, and doting, anxiously seeking a reciprocation of the affection they pile on. Hypocritically, I’ll call them fools. For the sake of example. The thing is, sure they’re idiots, deserve better, should turn and run, blah blah, etc, etc, but when you think about it, they’re the lucky ones. That’s the problem, well one of the problems* I’m sure: why does there have to be someone who loves LESS? Why can’t we just love, and not have a measure of it? This reminds me a great deal of my little niece, Lani, who’ll argue with me when I tuck her into bed on nights I have mum-duty–I’ll give the kiss on the forehead and the ‘love you’ at which time she grins and replies, ‘love you more’. ‘Nope’, I retort, ‘love you more’ and she’ll raise her voice with the typical kid, ‘nuh-uh love you to infinity!’. Eventually I let her win, but it gets me to thinking there’s real competition, and exertion of the point in adult relations. The unspoken that someone is at a higher level of euphoria (if it’s not one-sided in the first place) when you’re beside each other seems as immature as a goofy play-fight with a seven-year-old.

Can’t we all just get along? Or walk away? No, we drag it out, either running behind, wide-eyed, quick-breathed, and full of hope, or wincing, shrugging, or looking over a shoulder with guilt.

When did we graduate into adulthood exactly? The glory days aren’t being free, and liking, caring, loving whoever we want, and the freedom we attach to our grown-up relationships. The good ol’ days are the ones when hugs and kisses were enough.

trivial

The Exies ‘Tired of You’

I can’t speak frankly about my everyday life. It’s horribly un-entertaining, and requires no flair or elaboration on thoughtful subjects. This is when I remark that I have nothing spectacular to say, that I’m nervous about my new job and how I hope I don’t embarrass myself and eff anything up, and that I’m still in love with someone who has no idea.

Wait, there’s a topic (why have I been struggling lately for words?). On one hand, I think, ‘he’s just gotta know, there’s no way in Hell he doesn’t have a clue.’ Then again, I’m so ‘along for the ride’, all smiles, kisses, and hugs, at all the appropriate times, that perhaps the affection I’ve made known, and is written all over my face, he sees as sweet, maybe an innocent crush sensation? Either way, he gracefully ducks and dives the obvious (and the inevitable, I’ve hoped) now and then, before rejoining me in a silent, structured (almost habitual and routine) dance around the unspoken.

Though it seems not, I’ve watched the slow, unconventional progression, and we’ve come a long way, baby.

from the past

Breaking Benjamin ‘Polyamorous’ 

All the worry in vain. I’m almost embarrassed. Nothing new, though, my over-zealous emotional state, and his man-of-few-words deal. Ah well. No worries here. I don’t really have a big point to make tonight, or a huge dilemma I need talked around. Under the weather and bored. What a lovely combination.

I am a bit perplexed still by Mr. Darcy. He worries me sometimes. Ah, I don’t believe I’ve introduced you fine folks to him. How rude of me. Here’s my subject for the evening. Well, the short version? A co-worker. A strangled relationship, my first real boyfriend, and an interesting, heartfelt, and dramatic ending, all of the aforementioned my fault. It was ‘05, and I was the unworthy subject of affection. My barriers were doubly reinforced and though at times my soft interior shined through a bit, I was a harsh, dark girl. Clearly this was a problem, and in combination with the distance, it died. Slowly, painfully, and ridiculously, like a character from a Lifetime movie.

Mr. Darcy however, holds a friendly fondness in my little heart still, and I wonder in passing how he is. His demeanour is more outwardly how I am solitary, which worries me moreso than his general health and happiness. I guess they’re somewhat related. I’ll check in now and then, or receive an odd phone call at early hours, and they all end as awkwardly as they began, like one-night stands (though I’ve never had the first-hand experience), leaving me with a few question marks above my head. Hmm I think. What was that about?

So forgive me for never mentioning him in these 200+ posts. It’s a tangled up situation I don’t often delve into, afraid, sometimes of what I’ll retrieve in the process.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Ledger

New Found Glory ‘All Downhill From Here’

Heath Ledger is dead. When my sister told me, it was brow raising, worthy of a tight-lipped head shake and a solemn face. It’s a sincere reation, but not as drastic as some, since I didn’t actually know him. It’s a shame, all in all.

He was young–twenty-eight, right? How can a prosperous, sucessful man take his own life–sleeping pills, right? It doesn’t make much sense. Unless you think about it.

Who wouldn’t? Even if you’ve got the world ahead of you, there’s always that something big looming over you, threatening to swoop in and ruin your life as you know it. There’s always complications attached to everything you do, everything you encounter, and more often than not, it’s more than you can bear. Living a life of forcing every step, every thought isn’t really living at all. There are the pills, there’s your opportunity. You want to just let go, and you do. What a way to go. It’s the ultimate way to escape.

 God rest his soul.