I have a secret...
I'm an unreliable narrator.
Sometimes the things I write in this blog aren't fully accurate. Especially when it comes to my emotions.
Because the truth is, I spend a lot of time trying to talk myself into things. And even more time trying to talk myself out of things.
-----------
Example: I wrote something on here about this guy being interested in me, but whatever, nothing was going to happen.
Truth: I was attracted to him from the beginning. I just wasn't ready. So many guys hit on me. Many asked me out. Do you know how many I harshly turned down in person? Just Gus. Because he was the only one who was an actual temptation, and I knew I needed more time.
-----------
Example: I wrote a whole post about how being in Gus's play was more important to me than dating Gus.
Truth: I desperately wanted to be in Gus's play because I wanted to be around Gus. But that scared me. And I tried to talk myself out of wanting him. And convince myself that I wasn't just trying to be in his play because I had a crush on him, but that it was actually some sort of savvy career move. (Actually, it probably isn't; it's a tiny, non-paying theatre company, that already has a good opinion of me, doing a verbose high-concept show with no set in the Valley.) I just didn't want to admit to myself, or anyone else (and certainly not the internet) that I wanted to be in a play because of a boy. I actually nearly volunteered to be the stage manager (but stopped short of that because I really couldn't justify it as a good career decision; although Gus told me that he wouldn't have let me stage manage, as it would've been a waste of my talent -- his words).
[ETA: I did, in fact, offer to be an understudy after I found out I hadn't been cast.]
-----------
Example: I made it seem like I was having a conflict deciding between Gus and Phil.
Truth: I don't think there was ever a real moment of me wanting Phil over Gus. I just felt like there was supposed to be. I felt guilty. I felt like I owed Phil something.
-----------
Anyway. These are not the only times in the history of my blog where I haven't been 100% honest. But I felt I should own up to them, because I realized you are all working with incomplete information as a result of them. And I thought that maybe that would make everything else I'm writing seem either confusing, disingenuous, or delusional.
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I hung out with Gus on Thursday and Friday and Saturday and Sunday. And honestly? It was all pretty great. No crying, no stress, hardly any mention of the situation or the other girl (my choice). Just enjoying each other. And ignoring most of the circumstances.
I'm far more at peace with than I was. And maybe more than I should be. I don't know yet.
I'm not going to be able to see Gus again until Wednesday night or Thursday morning. (Between work and rehearsal, he basically has three 14-hour days in a row). And then on Thursday afternoon, we're going to Malibu, so that he can take me to that restaurant he's been promising to take me to.
We're driving separately. And while he hasn't admitted this, I have reason to believe that when he leaves me after dinner, he's driving to pick her up from the airport.
I know. Believe me, I know how messed up that is.
Especially because she doesn't know about me.
-----------
He really likes me. A lot. In spite of himself, I think.
I think he's getting to the place where he wants to start focusing on her. His jokes are all becoming non sequiturs. He's starting to rebuild the wall that I've spent so much time trying to chip away.
But I see him struggling. He's conflicted.
Today we went to see a play. He didn't want me to kiss him anywhere near the theatre, because a couple of our mutual friends (the ones that we never told we were dating) were there. But when I did kiss him, he kissed me back, hard.
And he spent the whole play casually touching me in quick ways. It felt like he didn't want them to notice, but just couldn't help himself. He'd put his hand on my knee just for a second, and then take it away again. Or take the armrest in a way that made his arm touch my shoulder. Or rub my calf with his shoe.
I also know from the things he says to me. When he flatters me, he does it in a way that shows me his vulnerability, like, "I figured it was just a matter of time before you came to your senses and dumped me," or, "You're only dating me because I came along at the right time. You can't possibly like me as much as you think you do." (I know it's hard to understand inflection and context when I type out things he's said, but trust me that when he says these things, they are not ironic, or manipulative, or said in a way that makes me think he's trying to get me to like him either more or less than I do.) Or telling me that time we spend together is "so good... it always is." Or calling an evening in "perfect". Or looking into my eyes, kissing my hand, and telling me how beautiful I am.
I'm not going to lie to you: I like that he's conflicted. Even though he's not choosing me. I like that it's a tough decision. One that he worries he might regret.
And if I were a more mature and selfless person than I am, I might tell him that we need to stop seeing each other sooner rather than later. Because it's not fair to her. She's coming all this way on a huge leap of faith to be with him, and when he sees her, it will be right after having taken me out to a nice dinner. It'll be right after kissing me. And holding me. And (just a guess) after comforting me while I cry a little. And I know that when he drives to see her, he'll be excited to see her, but part of him will feel terrible about hurting me.
But darn it, I don't care.
-----------------
Someone told me a little about her last night...
FRIEND: She's a manic pixie dream girl.
ANGELA: Ah. I'm almost one. But only like half the time.
FRIEND: Yeah, she's one all the time. Also, she's crazy.
ANGELA: Well, I'm crazy, too. So Gus has a type.
FRIEND: It's a completely different kind of crazy. You're crazy in a good way.
*shrugs*
We left the conversation there.
----------------
For now, I'm happy. For now, I'm okay. For now, this works.
But after Thursday...?
Well, don't be surprised if you get another blog post.
~A~
I'm an unreliable narrator.
Sometimes the things I write in this blog aren't fully accurate. Especially when it comes to my emotions.
Because the truth is, I spend a lot of time trying to talk myself into things. And even more time trying to talk myself out of things.
-----------
Example: I wrote something on here about this guy being interested in me, but whatever, nothing was going to happen.
Truth: I was attracted to him from the beginning. I just wasn't ready. So many guys hit on me. Many asked me out. Do you know how many I harshly turned down in person? Just Gus. Because he was the only one who was an actual temptation, and I knew I needed more time.
-----------
Example: I wrote a whole post about how being in Gus's play was more important to me than dating Gus.
Truth: I desperately wanted to be in Gus's play because I wanted to be around Gus. But that scared me. And I tried to talk myself out of wanting him. And convince myself that I wasn't just trying to be in his play because I had a crush on him, but that it was actually some sort of savvy career move. (Actually, it probably isn't; it's a tiny, non-paying theatre company, that already has a good opinion of me, doing a verbose high-concept show with no set in the Valley.) I just didn't want to admit to myself, or anyone else (and certainly not the internet) that I wanted to be in a play because of a boy. I actually nearly volunteered to be the stage manager (but stopped short of that because I really couldn't justify it as a good career decision; although Gus told me that he wouldn't have let me stage manage, as it would've been a waste of my talent -- his words).
[ETA: I did, in fact, offer to be an understudy after I found out I hadn't been cast.]
-----------
Example: I made it seem like I was having a conflict deciding between Gus and Phil.
Truth: I don't think there was ever a real moment of me wanting Phil over Gus. I just felt like there was supposed to be. I felt guilty. I felt like I owed Phil something.
-----------
Anyway. These are not the only times in the history of my blog where I haven't been 100% honest. But I felt I should own up to them, because I realized you are all working with incomplete information as a result of them. And I thought that maybe that would make everything else I'm writing seem either confusing, disingenuous, or delusional.
----------
----------
-----------
I hung out with Gus on Thursday and Friday and Saturday and Sunday. And honestly? It was all pretty great. No crying, no stress, hardly any mention of the situation or the other girl (my choice). Just enjoying each other. And ignoring most of the circumstances.
I'm far more at peace with than I was. And maybe more than I should be. I don't know yet.
I'm not going to be able to see Gus again until Wednesday night or Thursday morning. (Between work and rehearsal, he basically has three 14-hour days in a row). And then on Thursday afternoon, we're going to Malibu, so that he can take me to that restaurant he's been promising to take me to.
We're driving separately. And while he hasn't admitted this, I have reason to believe that when he leaves me after dinner, he's driving to pick her up from the airport.
I know. Believe me, I know how messed up that is.
Especially because she doesn't know about me.
-----------
He really likes me. A lot. In spite of himself, I think.
I think he's getting to the place where he wants to start focusing on her. His jokes are all becoming non sequiturs. He's starting to rebuild the wall that I've spent so much time trying to chip away.
But I see him struggling. He's conflicted.
Today we went to see a play. He didn't want me to kiss him anywhere near the theatre, because a couple of our mutual friends (the ones that we never told we were dating) were there. But when I did kiss him, he kissed me back, hard.
And he spent the whole play casually touching me in quick ways. It felt like he didn't want them to notice, but just couldn't help himself. He'd put his hand on my knee just for a second, and then take it away again. Or take the armrest in a way that made his arm touch my shoulder. Or rub my calf with his shoe.
I also know from the things he says to me. When he flatters me, he does it in a way that shows me his vulnerability, like, "I figured it was just a matter of time before you came to your senses and dumped me," or, "You're only dating me because I came along at the right time. You can't possibly like me as much as you think you do." (I know it's hard to understand inflection and context when I type out things he's said, but trust me that when he says these things, they are not ironic, or manipulative, or said in a way that makes me think he's trying to get me to like him either more or less than I do.) Or telling me that time we spend together is "so good... it always is." Or calling an evening in "perfect". Or looking into my eyes, kissing my hand, and telling me how beautiful I am.
I'm not going to lie to you: I like that he's conflicted. Even though he's not choosing me. I like that it's a tough decision. One that he worries he might regret.
And if I were a more mature and selfless person than I am, I might tell him that we need to stop seeing each other sooner rather than later. Because it's not fair to her. She's coming all this way on a huge leap of faith to be with him, and when he sees her, it will be right after having taken me out to a nice dinner. It'll be right after kissing me. And holding me. And (just a guess) after comforting me while I cry a little. And I know that when he drives to see her, he'll be excited to see her, but part of him will feel terrible about hurting me.
But darn it, I don't care.
-----------------
Someone told me a little about her last night...
FRIEND: She's a manic pixie dream girl.
ANGELA: Ah. I'm almost one. But only like half the time.
FRIEND: Yeah, she's one all the time. Also, she's crazy.
ANGELA: Well, I'm crazy, too. So Gus has a type.
FRIEND: It's a completely different kind of crazy. You're crazy in a good way.
*shrugs*
We left the conversation there.
----------------
For now, I'm happy. For now, I'm okay. For now, this works.
But after Thursday...?
Well, don't be surprised if you get another blog post.
~A~
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