Attain Me.

I took a personal call this morning, a rare occasion during “work” hours. My girlfriend needed to speak and I called her on my way to the office, thinking five minutes would suffice. Five minutes became sixty.

She shared intimate details, and a gift was given to me–she allowed me to open up to her. Forever grateful I am, for the revelation borne in that phone call.

Caballito. The dance. The unease. My confusion at this unease. My neediness. When did I become that girl? Everything is perfect, I don’t wish for the dynamic to change. It’s a puzzle I cannot complete. A piece is missing and yet I don’t know what to look for.

What, I wonder, am I seeking? What words could reverse my insecurity or satiate this unidentifiable void? Perhaps, this situation is not sustainable for me. I, not cut out for this companion, FWB.

The journey to the truth.

Caballito put it all on the table when I met him. I don’t want to be your boyfriend. I welcomed the departure from the men in New York, the Journalist and Matt Damon, who wanted just that. Between the falling snow and cold last week, I was disappointing them. Creating pain. Running away . . . .  to Puerto Rico, to Caballito. My companion. I, now the disappointed.

I vary between the extremes, I think.  The Available Man who is unappealing versus the Unavailable man who is addictive.

“It’s all the same,” my girlfriend said. I search my mind, attempting to find the common link.

Ah-ha. CONTINUITY.

The revelation.

Someone asked me in April what I wanted. I said, continuity. Ever since, I use this word often. However, I never realized how this unfulfilled need and my search for such, is the basis of the unhealthy relationships in my life—and the deterrent to a proper one.  These men and my relationships with them, stem from the temporary fulfillment of this need, a fulfillment that cannot sustain itself.

With Matt Damon and the Journalist, they liked me, truly. I liked them as friends. My ex-boyfriend told me, “You make people your world and they become addicted to you.” These men. We become friends. We establish the continuity I want. I seek. Yet, it is a lost pursuit, as the foundation is created on their desire for more. It will inevitably, end. And it does.

Matt Damon. He wrote me an email on Monday, “I still feel now as I did then that you are clearly not a platonic friend to me and it only takes you walking into a room to remind me of that.  I’m confident enough in what I want to tell you that I don’t want to pursue a faux friendship with you as I place you on a pretty high pedestal so it would be dis-ingenious for me to do so.” It’s over. That’s that.

 

Caballito. I love our companionship. It is beautiful. But built on words that promise no continuity. “I don’t want to be your boyfriend.” We have, however, established a continuity. And the obvious conflict between the foundation and the continuity that is making me so happy precludes it’s death.

And here Attainingme realizes, that without a solid family, without a solid home, with two lives, she has a very crucial unfulfilled need. Some people need to be liked, need to be appreciated, need to be in control—I  need continuity. And I can’t put this burden on men. I need to fulfill this elsewhere. And I have a feeling, that once I do so, life will change, yet again. 🙂 
And this is how I grow. This is how I attain me
.  

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No feelings for Person > Person has feelings for you > Person around = Resentment?

I have quite a bit of updating to do, but a quick note. 

I am back in New York. Missing Caballito. Still frustrated at my initial sabotaging of our perfection. I realize that if he were to ask me to be my boyfriend, I would object. I don’t actually want anything more than what we have, aside from perhaps some security, an antidote to my vulnerability. This vulnerability is causing me to want to act up, react, demand, and need. 

I saw KidRobot for the first time since May. More to come on KidRobot. I also saw the Journalist. The companion I left behind in New York a month ago. A companion that is emotionally available and as such, I didn’t allow as close as Caballito (physically). Of course, we only want the men that could hurt us. I spent many moments with the Journalist. Stuck him on a horse. Drove him past pumpkins. Departures from the typical daily life of a New Yorker. Perfect “dates” although in my mind, they were just “days.”

I saw him Friday, my first full day back. And I couldn’t find the feeling of connection I had previously felt. Perhaps, because he is a large contrast to the energy, power, and strength I see in Caballito? Everything from his shoes to his purchase of gloves made me realize the difference of our worlds. Unimportant, yes . . but the little things were starting to bug me . . 

AND when the little things start to bug you, I feel everything thereafter is an inevitable ride downhill (without brakes) . . 

Is it just me or when you lose feelings or realize you have none, do you start to resent very small insignificant things?

 I realized that I may have been too shocked by getting acclimated to New York again and clouded in my own feelings of longing for Caballito and my lack of “legs” here, to enjoy the Journalist on Friday. So, last night, the Journalist came over. It was nice and comfortable, but when I realized he was spending the night, I wanted to inch away. Eject him from my bed. He somewhat smelled. He was too skinny. He is nice, but just nice. I turned off the light and he kissed me. I kissed back with tight lips. And then turned. 

I slept. I woke up early and there is no better source of caffeine than wanting to escape a situation in your own bed. . . . I miss you Caballito.

Advice wanted.

A quick update on the men:

So, as you know MattDamon let an imaginary relationship grow in his mind. This became apparent by his friends’ and colleagues’ comments at his gradation dinner. Recall, “So, this is the meeting of the parents! “

After this event and my avoiding his attempts to peck me on the lips as if we did it for everyday for the last ten years, MattDamon avoided the coffee shop where we spend our days working on laptops.

 Another fellow coffee-shopper, the Journalist, also works from there. The Journalist is also an acquaintance of MattDamon, albeit a new one. He too was at the graduation dinner. As we were chatting that evening, which we had done many times before, I sensed a spark of interest (he unaware of my assumed romantic status with MattDamon.) Jounalist had always disregarded me previously (so much so that he didn’t even recognize me when I had walked into the coffee shop from my two weeks in PR, so I was rather surprised to find a spark in his eye.)

I gave the Journalist my card as I fled that awkward evening. The next morning:

On 10/17/08 7:51 AM, the Journalist wrote:

Hey there,
Just adding you to my contacts before I forget. Here’s my info, case you need some editing help.
Good to see you last night.

Journalist
555.555.5555

On Oct 17, 2008, at 9:28 AM, Attainingme wrote:

Lol. Thanks. Way to make me feel brilliant first thing in the morning.

On Oct 17, 2008, at 10:49 AM, Journalist wrote:

Just kidding. Drop a line if you are out in hood later.
Btw  still embarrassed about not recognizing you yesterday 😉  

 


The night of the credit card incident, Journalist texted me. Feeling as if I lost my mind, I welcomed the opportunity to have a drink. Without money, I told him he had to purchase it. He obliged. We met at a small bar. Sat. Talked. Connected . . .

This was the start to our companionship that flourished until my leaving for PR last week–the companionship that has me feeling empty. I really miss him. We talk daily. We kissed while I was there. Nothing more. I spent the night and he did as well. He ventured with me on errands and to ride horses, hours working at cafes, a few dinners, and a couple parties. I enjoy him, but don’t foresee him as a boyfriend. The only potential boyfriend may be Dario, who will be dissected separately.

So, here is the dilemma:

onewomanmanymenpicture

As I mentioned MattDamon and Journalist are acquaintances, a growing friendship, a mutual respect. So, the Saturday before my departure to PR, after the companionship with the Journalist and I was budding, all three of us somehow ended up at the same bar. MattDamon was clueless that the Journalist and I had planned to meet each other. MattDamon left to go to another obligation. I was leaving soon as well. Ten minutes later, Journalist walked me out. MattDamon stood outside waiting—he waited ten mintues!!

MattDamon asked to walk me home. Continue reading