Afraid to Fall

Last night, I went to see the play All My Sons starring David Suchet and Zoë Wanamaker (one of my favorite plays, with two actors I greatly respect).

When I got to the theatre, I was on the top balcony (which is basically the 4th floor), in the very last row of the steepest stadium-seating I've ever seen. (It's apparently the highest seating in any theatre in London.) Before I even climbed the last set of stairs, I had to sit down, hyperventilating and freaking out. When I got to my seat, it was directly next to the very steep center aisle, and I had to look down to see the stage. There was a red bar in front of me (I don't know if I was supposed to hold onto it, lean on it, or just somehow be comforted by the illusion/delusion that it could save me), but open space below it. I was terrified and dizzy. I thought I was going to pass out and/or die.

D-Train had to get me out of my seat. With my eyes closed, I told him that I was too afraid to stand up. He wisely informed me that waiting wasn't going to make it better. As he lead me down the stairs, I started crying hysterically and hyperventilating again. It wasn't until he sat me down in an enclosed room that I could start breathing and begin to calm down.

You know what's funny about that? Last week, I stood at the summit of the Eiffel Tower, and I was just fine.

You see, I don't have a fear of heights...

I have a fear of falling.

An arresting, debilitating, irrational fear of falling.

So does Phil.

Just one more weird way that we match.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In case you were wondering, Phil is still great.



And I'm getting scared.

I have a week left in London, and he's super busy.

Two days ago, he met me for a picnic lunch between my classes (and insisted on buying grapes so that he could feed them to me "in a decadent manner"). He met me at a theatre last night after a show I attended, and we went out to a bar with some of my people. I was at his house this morning, and he made me tea. We're going out for dinner tomorrow night, and going out dancing with his friends and mine on Friday.

But it doesn't feel like enough time.

And I don't know what to do.

If I lived here, it would be easy. But I don't.

Long distance relationships blow (I know from a great deal of experience). And when the long-distance involves a different time zone? Incredibly challenging. And to enter into one with someone you've just met? Sort of insane.

I'm afraid to even bring up the subject with him. Mostly because I'll be heart-broken if he suggests the obvious course of action: end things when I leave.

(Heart-broken? Seriously?... Maybe I'm exaggerating.)

Hurt. Disappointed. Sad. Angry at circumstance.

He says he thinks about me all the time. That he's distracted from his work. And, to be honest, I was pretty distracted in class today because I kept thinking about a conversation we had this morning.

Yesterday, he had a bad day (extraordinarily bad... three huge, bad things hit on the same day). But when he met me at the theatre, he said that all day, he'd been calming himself down with the reminder that he'd get to see me. And that somehow just by seeing me, he felt better. He referred to me as being the light at the end of the tunnel.

We've been incredibly open and honest with each other thus far. More so than I ever remember being in any dating situation I've been in up to this point. I love that. No games. No strategizing. We're just present. And it's easy.

I'm too attached to him. That's the problem. I want to be around him as much is as physically possible. And he says he feels the same way.

Part of me thinks I should spend less time with him now. Just enjoy London. Not get dependent on him, as I once got with Brian. Because honestly, as much as I once cared about The Filmmaker, I think the way I feel about Phil is closer to the way I felt about Brian. I don't know how to explain it. I want to say something big and dramatic, like there was a puzzle piece missing in my life, and he fits. But that's not it.

It's more like... I think he sees more in me than I see in myself. I think he sees inside me somehow. And it makes me feel vulnerable and safe all at the same time.

I cried twice last night. The first time was at the theatre, during my height-induced panic attack. The second time was when I was alone with Phil. I felt so close to him, and I had a moment where I was afraid of falling, but not in a literal sense. And just like with D-Train leading me down the stairs, it wasn't until I was being led away from the terrifying thing that I cried.

Phil said all the right things. He said things that I didn't know I needed to hear. And I don't mean that in a delusional, "He said something different than what I wanted, but I'm going to rationalize that it was what I needed" kind of way (because, unfortunately, I have gone through that sort of denial in the past). I don't want to ruin my memory of the moment by trying to write it. But one of the things he said was that it made perfect sense for me to be feeling the way I was feeling. He gave me validation without me asking for it. And that's when I cried.

And then I apologized for crying. He smiled at me, and calmed me down, telling me that there was no need to apologize. That I never needed to apologize to him.

I felt vulnerable. And safe. And like I'd just reached a level of intimacy with him that didn't make sense with someone I've known for only a few days.

And now I'm filled with self-knowledge that had previously been lurking below the surface. Mostly regret for things in my past. Things I led myself to believe were real, but that truly never were. Regret for convincing myself that I was comfortable with things that had been said and done, when I never truly was.

So today, I officially ended things with Alessandro, the Italian boy whom I've enjoyed spending time with. I knew I had to. Phil is worth so much more to me than Alessandro ever was or ever could be. It was awkward and uncomfortable for me, and I hated the idea of hurting him... but ultimately went much better and more easily than I thought it would. I guess I didn't as much to him as I thought I did (or maybe he just covered it well?). But then, I guess he didn't mean as much to me as I thought he did, either.

The scariest part of ending things with Alessandro actually had nothing to do with Alessandro. The scariest part was knowing that, in some way, I'd just made a choice to commit to Phil... without Phil having to do anything to commit to me. I gave over a little more. I signed on a little more. I put myself in a more vulnerable position.

Phil isn't perfect. And I'm not sure he's right for me. Which makes it harder to make leaps like this.

But something about him is wonderful. And it makes me cheer deeply for there to be a way for this to work. God, please let there be a way to make this work.



I don't know why I'm rooting so hard for this in my head. But I am. I want this to be Happily-Ever-After instead of a star in the trail to Neverland.

And I feel crazy for thinking that. Absolutely insane. I feel like a needy, delusional stalker chick.

I've been so honest with him about so many other things, and he with me. But I haven't told him how much I'm rooting for this. I have a fear that I'll scare him off. I don't want to be one of those girls. And I think I've somehow just become one of those girls.

Maybe it's a mistake seeing him at all right now. Maybe the smart thing to do is just enjoy my last week in London, and not waste time falling further into infatuation with a guy I won't have time to solve things with. I don't want my life to turn out like the series finale of FlashForward (i.e. completely unresolved, despite the creative team having plenty of reasons to suspect that it was about to be canceled).

D-Train says that I shouldn't pull away. He says when you find someone you connect with like this, you have to enjoy it. But he also said not to get my hopes up about the future. And I know he's right.

It's just too hard.

The logical side of me has the solution, of course.
Step 1: Spend time with him while I'm here, and enjoy it.
Step 2: Don't define anything.
Step 3: Stay in touch when I get back to the USA, but don't have any sort of commitment.
Step 4: If it becomes apparent once I'm back in the USA that we actually want commitment, THEN consider it.
Step 5: If we both end up in the same city when I'm out of grad school (most likely possibility: Los Angeles) and are still in contact and single, then go for it.

But right now, the irrational side of me is beating the logical side over the head with a sledgehammer of emotion.

If I take any other course than the one the logical side has chosen, I'm setting myself up for heartbreak. I know that.

And I'm terrified of it.

I don't mind being in a vulnerable position. I don't mind being open and honest with him. I don't mind being so connected to a person that I just met.

I'm not afraid of being that high.

I'm just afraid to fall.



May you conquer your fears. And may you find a Happily-Ever-After to root for.

~A~



P.S. Both pictures in this post were taken the day I met Phil. Neither of us thinks that these photos do either of us justice. We are both much more attractive in real life. (Phil thinks he looks insane in the second one.) But this is what I have so far, and I figured you'd want to see the guy I'm so insane over.