What Happens When You Actually In Relationship??


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Several months ago, a friend and my go-to astrologer wrote me and asked if I might be interested in publishing an article from her over at Loveawake.

I said sure, then asked her what it was about (I enjoy her writing, so I knew it was okay to sign the dotted line before reading the fine print). She replied that the article would tackle what it’s like to finally have a partner after searching – and yearning – for one for so long.

Essentially, it would look at the “ever after” for a person who has spent a great deal of time and focus on fulfilling that desire.

What actually happens when this basic desire is fulfilled? Most people (who are looking) tend to think it would be, “Praise Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed! Finally!” But most people (after they actually experience it) end up thinking, “well, what the hell now?”

At the time she wrote me, I said, “I think that is a fantastic idea! And I think I’ll probably be grappling with the same issue really soon.” She concurred, saying, “yeah, I have a feeling you will.”

Now, here I am. Grappling with the same issue (and stealing her idea for a post).

Where It’s At

Last week, Carlo and I were talking about the state of affairs on love and relationship (aka dating) blogs. We were finding similar issues and complaints, ones focused on the plethora of horrible men out there, the pain of rejection, the desire to just find real love in a sea of phony scoundrels.

Each of us bemoaned the fact that there seems to be such little self-love when it comes to searching for love with another, and how that lack of self-love leads to encountering the same type of asshole (man or woman) over and over again.

Then we started catching up about our personal love and relationship state of affairs, culminating with the question from Carlo: “So, is he your boyfriend?”

Sigh.

It’s not that I have a problem saying I have a boyfriend. Or even, at this point, admitting that I’m with someone. We see each other almost everyday, and touch base multiple times through the mornings and afternoons. Pairs of earrings line his living room, kitchen, and bedside tables, and a little box in the drawer holds both a sturdy pair of earplugs along with two hair clips I dropped in the bed months ago. A battered, oversized, long-sleeved Dave Matthews t-shirt hangs near the edge of his closet so I can slip into it when I spend the night, but usually I just dive under the covers in the dress I’m wearing. By now, his dog wants to cuddle with me as much as him, and my cat climbs onto his chest, staring off into the distance contentedly.

I’ve shared those deep hidden recesses with him, not just the ones riding under the surface, but the ones so entrenched I hardly know they are there until they come spilling out of my mouth.

Yet I can’t seem to answer Carlo’s question. “Well…um…we haven’t really talked about it recently.” I know that this is my fault, that he wouldn’t dare to broach the subject again since I seem to be on board one minute and then absolutely freak-out the next. I know that it is up to me to say, “We are together. We are in a relationship,” and mean it, for good, not for just today and this week and until it hits a rough moment. I know that when we walk down the street, silently fighting about something that neither of us understands or remembers and he says, “I love you more than I think you can handle,” that I am caught in exactly what I always dreamed of.

And all I want to do is try and prove it’s not.

What’s What

Is it fear that if I actually admit this is a relationship, it’ll fall apart as so many have in the past? Maybe. Power dynamics have tended to play a larger role in my past relationships than I’d like to admit.

Will a month go by and suddenly I’ll think, “this isn’t right” again? And I’ll tug him around, again? Maybe. It’s happened a few times already, as it has in almost every relationship I’ve been in.

Is it that I have to give up a part of my identity to simply love and be loved? That I have to give up the drama of desiring who and what I can’t have and instead live in the simpler – and maybe more boring – existence of just being in love? Is it that just being in love will make me think, “wow, I spent all this time searching for it and it’s not that great?”

The search to be fulfilled by another has been so long and so real and so profound that where am I left when I get that thing? I’m left with the everyday realities of being in a relationship. On the one hand, some are wonderful: knowing I can depend on someone else, that I’m not alone, that I can tap into sweeter and more mysterious realms of my emotional, intellectual, and spiritual self and help him do the same. On the other, I contend with a larger mirror of myself than I’ve ever known, one where I see my faults and dramatic tendencies and moodiness and the places I still need to heal.

Shit, and the need for more self-love.

What’s Next

Last night, as he lay in my arms, I whispered in his ear, “So, you wanna be my boyfriend?” To which he chuckled and said, “Uh…I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer that question.”

I thought about the innate desire in most of us to both give and receive love, and what we put on the line for it, and yet how often we sabotage it when it shows up. I thought about all those bloggers who would look at the man beside me and say, “what’s your problem? He’s fantastic!” and yet they’ve shunned many a good one in favor of a whole lotta bad ones. I thought about giving up the old me, once and for all, not for “forever” with this man, but for “forever” with me, knowing I deserve as much love as I can get in this lifetime, from him, from myself, and from everyone I share space with.

“You should answer yes,” I said.

“Yes, Christine. Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”


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