Have you SEEN me?

Formerly Not So Much. . .the daily musings of a 26-year-old PYT whose self-love is superceded only by her obnoxiously endearing ability to remind you at all times just how fabulous she is. Guys too stupid to realize how lucky they are to be graced with her presence? Woman with 4-pack abs climbs onto the elliptical trainer next to her? Arrives at Chick-Fil-A at 10:37, only to learn she has missed her opportunity for a chicken biscuit? She throws all these setbacks off with disdain. . .after all, have you SEEN her??

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

All My Irrational Thoughts

It's not ok to joke about it. Regardless of how ridiculous I was, I still feel, very poignantly, all the things I said. I still worry that you don't love me, that maybe I'm just the last in a string of women with whom you've been involved over many years. I still worry that you're just the guy who ALWAYS has a girlfriend. And you think it's so obvious because otherwise, why would you be with me? Well, you've already told me you were with your last girlfriend for five years because she accepted you, 100%, despite the fact that you had some tough things to share with her. Maybe you're with me because I accept you, too.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful for all the things you do for me, the places you take me, the things you buy me, but I really am the girl for whom a bouquet of flowers, a nice card, or a squeeze and a cuddle will get you farther than all the top-notch restaurants or gifts in the world. I like the other stuff too, but I haven't gotten enough of the first stuff lately. You used to tell me, so unequivocally, how you felt about me, and it sounded like you were head over heels for me. . .and one day, you stopped. You said you didn't feel any different, you just decided that it was more prudent to move more slowly. But gosh, I miss that guy. I miss that guy who would just drop all his feelings on me with no thought to the repercussions. I wish you'd make yourself vulnerable to me; I already feel so vulnerable with you.

I know you have a problem being that way, being vulnerable, being weak. I know that it was a miracle I was *ever* able to inspire that behavior from you at all. . .and I just wonder if I'll *ever* inspire it again! I catch little glimpses of it here and there. . .even the other night, when you stroked my face and neck as I slept, me only semi-conscious that you were observing me at all. But it's just not obvious enough to me, and I'm going crazy. I want to be calm. I want to wait patiently. But when you make cracks and inform me that "I'm not uncomfortable expressing my feelings. . ." what am I supposed to think? Oh, you're not!? It's just what I thought the first time, then, you really DON'T love me. . .cause if you did, you'd tell me. After all, you're not uncomfortable. And that's the only really good excuse I could come up with, all this time.

I do think you're lying. I do think you're terrified. I think you can't stand to show the chink in your armor and you know that I am the woman who is penetrating that thick veneer of machismo that you've been wearing all these years. You said some time ago it was kind of nice to have someone who knew you that well, but kind of unsettling too. Well, you're unsettling me too. If you're so comfortable in your feelings. . .why can't you just tell me?

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