Thoughts over a latte

So I'm feeling much better than I was on Thursday.  I'm not back to my fully colorful self.  However, if I was to say I was nothing but shades of gray (and not fifty) on Thursday, I'm back to a more balanced palette, but with subdued tones of all the colors.  That's definite progress, and I'm hopeful I'll be back to full technicolor in a couple more days.

One of the things that helped, I think, was getting a lot of sleep on Thursday. I was in bed by 9:45pm and didn't get up until a little after eight on Friday morning.  Well, other than getting up to take care of Hellcat's needs around 5:30.  She was a doll and let me go back to sleep without much fuss after that.

Then Friday night, I decided to run out and work on my novel at the diner.  Friday's not a normal writing night for me, but I felt like both getting out of the house and working on the novel.  That second part was a relief, as I was worried about my malaise interfering with or even sabotaging the efforts of getting this novel done.  (Such feelings of being down have actually shipwrecked a couple such attempts on my part, after all.)

Today, I hung out with friends for a bit. Then I ran over to a coffee shop to enjoy a latte.  I'm sitting here, sipping on said latte as I write this post in fact.  I'm enjoying the music and conversation in the background.  Every now and then, I look up just to see if anyone I know is around.  So far, I haven't spotted anyone.  That's probably just as well.  The only person I can think of that I know hangs out here regularly is Hot Pants, and I'd just as soon not see him, let alone interact.

So the rest, time out of the house, and work on the novel have improved my mood greatly, which is good.  Granted, I still need to figure out what to do about meeting and socializing with other people, but at least I don't feel quite so hopeless about it.  (Yeah, Thursday really was that bad.)  I'm seriously considering abandoning my time at Home Bar, other than the writing I do there on Tuesday night.  I'm not meeting anyone new there right now.  And if I'm being totally honest, I think I'm mainly going there now out of a sense of obligation to a couple of the people who work there.  To be even more honest, I'm allowing myself to question whether that sense of obligation is merited.  I'm leaning toward "no."

"Cybering isn't really my thing."

The title of this post is in quotes because I actually found myself uttering that phrase tonight.  A young -- and rather cute, I might add -- guy approached me and started talking sexually to me.  It was clear that he intended the conversation to turn into an alright wankfest of cybersex.  So I figured I best politely, yet firmly put the breaks on.

Granted, there was a time when I was into cybersex, much like there was a time I was open to long distance relationships.  And as with those, I grew, my needs and views changed, and I realized that it wasn't working for me.  Interestingly enough, I'd say that the transition from liking both to finding them undesirable were nearly coincidental with one another.  In many ways, that makes sense.  My original interest in both were motivated by the same factors.  I was in a rather isolated area where finding out and gay guys was difficult.  Being out was somewhere between difficult and outright impossible.  So in addition to being open to the idea of getting away from that situation and moving away into the arms of Mr. Right, engaging in cybersex with guys online provided me not only a sexual outlet, but a way to explore the feelings and desires that were finally bursting out of the dark dungeon I had confined them to.

The thing is, while cybersex is great for exploring and expressing one's desires, it doesn't really fulfill all those desires.  There's not the same physical intimacy (and probably not the same emotional intimacy either) that comes with actual, person-to-person sex.  Over time, that missing piece of the puzzle became more obvious, making online fun decreasingly fulfilling and interesting.

Of course, then I met a few guys and finally had real physical intimacy, which underscored what was lacking in my cybersex experiences.  Once I had that experience, going back to an imperfect substitute made less and less sense.  In eventuality, I lost interest altogether.  After all, time spent cybering is time I could spend making connections with local people, connections that again might eventually lead to the "real deal."

Having that brief encounter with a guy who is clearly at a point in his life where he's heavily into cybering simply reminded me of another way in which I've grown and changed.  I don't know if he will take the same path I did or come to the same conclusions someday.  Maybe for him, cybersex will always be a desirable part of his life.  If so, more power to him.  That's his choice to make and I have no desire to tell him how to live his life.

I simply recognized what is right for me and how that's changed over time.

Lather, rinse, repeat: Good for washing hair, but not your love life

In many ways, I'm still processing through the events and feelings about my mid-week date.  In many ways, I've started to become more convinced that I really dodged a bullet with this one.  One of the things I didn't mention in my previous post was that he shared with me a bit about his history, including how he came here.  Originally, he lived six hours away, but moved here for a guy.  He told me that he and his ex met online back in February, really hit it off, and decided to move in together, which for my date meant a relocation halfway across the state.  They moved in together back in April.

He's adorable, but is he really worth
packing and unpacking all those boxes?

So he's the kind of guy who met someone and within two months had decided it was True Love™and went through a major move.  That strikes me as...fast.  Granted, I probably wouldn't have always considered it fast.  As I noted in a previous post, there was a time in my life when I would've done anything for anything I thought was True Love™.  In fact, there was a time when I was seriously considering moving to another continent to be with the guy I was convinced I was meant to be with.  (Fortunately, he ended our online entanglement before that could happen.)  I'd like to think I might have still waited for more than two months before going through with it, mind you.  Still, I appreciate the mentality and understand how someone could actually go through with it.

What I don't totally get is that it looks like my date may be planning on going through it all over again.  On our way back to my car from Manly Bar and after he'd decided I wasn't The One™, he started rambling. One of the things he got telling me about is this guy he's been talking to who lives out in Arizona for some time.  He started telling me about how they seemed to have this incredible connection and just got each other on so many levels.  He said he's hoping to go for a visit in January, and that they've made plans to meet a few times but had to cancel in the past.  Listening to him talk (and thinking about it afterward), I realized that he's probably already making plans to move to Arizona for this guy, just like he moved here for his now-ex.

Well, at least he waited more than two months before plunging in.  After all, Arizona is significantly more than six hours away.

All joking and snark aside, this really does amaze me.  I understand impulsively uprooting yourself once for True Love™.  After all, we're all raised with pretty outrageous notions about romance and love.  All the movies tell us that these things have a magic way of working out, and such impulsive daring is rewarded.  So yeah, I see going through all that once.

What I don't get so much is going through that, getting burned, finding yourself in a strange place with few or no friends, and when presented with an opportunity to do it again, and thinking it's still a good idea the second time.

Maybe when I was younger and thought more like this guy, I would think it was a good idea too.  Who knows?  If that's the case, I can only say that I'm glad that I grew wiser over the past several years.

A pleasant but disappointing date

As anyone who was following my Twitter feed last night would know, I had a date of sorts that didn't go so well.  I originally met the guy through an online personal site.  I contacted him back on Sunday.  I have to say that I thought that my first email (and even the follow-up emails) was amazing, witty, and engaging.  Given that he responded earlier yesterday afternoon, continued the exhange, and proposed meeting in person later last night, I think it's safe to say that the other guy would agree with my assessment.  In many ways, I'm proud of myself for that, as I showed myself to be witty, passionate, and interesting, all characteristics that I was concerned other people might not feel I possessed as recently as a year ago.

That sums up how I feel.
Though I'm more up than down.

Granted, I was a bit concerned and even pleasantly surprised when he responded to my email.  After all, he was in his mid twenties, and I'm getting ready to exit my thirties in less than two years.  But I was pleased to see that I charmed him over and agreed to meet him at a coffee shop around 8:30.  We met there, then decided to go for a walk, as the coffee shop closed at 9 and was more crowded than either of us expected.  We made small talk as we walked and eventually decided to go to Manly Bar for a drink, which was several blocks (possibly a mile) away.  He had a bear and I had a couple vodka and cranberry cocktails.  We talked a bit more and decided to play pool.

Playing pool was interesting.  We both told each other that we weren't very good, which I suspect is the truth.  However, it was a bit embarrassing that I had one of those rare miraculous streaks where four of my consecutive shots actually went the way I intended them to, so I think he thought I had understated my pool playing ability.  (What a time to get lucky, eh?)  Even so, he still only had one ball left on the table when I sunk the eight ball for the win, so it went well.  (Though I'm a bit annoyed that he seemed to doubt my honesty when I said I just got lucky with those shots.)

Overall, I felt the night went really well.  I got out of the house.  I spent a couple hours with a guy who I thought I was both rather cute and pretty smart (if a bit on the insecure side).  Sure, there were a few awkward silences as neither of us were sure what to say (I felt like I was talking too much and had trouble spawning lengtheir responses from him).  But I was okay with that.  I've learned to accept awkward silences and let them naturally resolve themselves.  They bothered him, though.

And there was no "magic moment" where things were perfect and we fell instantly in love (or lust).  Honestly, I'm okay with that at my age.  I don't believe that such fairy tale moments are necessary -- or even conducive much of the time -- to meaningful or lasting relationships.  As such, I felt the night went well for a first time meeting and would be open to spending more time with him.  Even if we never clicked on a romantic level -- and I admit that there's a good possibility that would never happen -- I felt there was enough potential there for a good friendship.  Good friendships -- especially friendships with people I can go to a bar or do other things -- are something I could use more of, to be frank.

Alas, my date (though I'm not sure he'd consider it a date) doesn't seem to feel the same way.  He made a point both at manly bar and when we approached my car to end our night to tell me that he just didn't see any chemistry between us.  It seems he was looking for that magic "fairy tale" moment and is interested in nothing less.  As such, I don't get the impression he's interested in pursuing even a friendship.

While I'm disappointed about this, I accept it.  And while I told him -- when he asked for my opinion -- that I personally would like to spend a bit more time with him, I don't intend on pushing the issue.  If his mind is made up -- and it seems to be that way -- I will respect that.  To be honest, I like him and think he's a good guy, but I'm not going to push or beg for attention or even time spent together.

I did find it funny that he seemed to open up -- in that rambling "let me tell you my whole life story and all my inner thoughts and fears" sort of way (that included talking about some guy out west that he "just clicks with" and hopes to meet this winter) -- on our way home.  I don't know, perhaps that once he decided there was no way I could be "The One," he felt more comfortable and able to just say what was on his mind.  Well, he did that until he started realizing that he was rambling and worried that it would bother me.  (I actually enjoy listening to people ramble.  It's one of my quirks.)

In many ways, he reminded of me from a few years ago:  Insecure, too worried about what other people think, too desperate to find validation through others.  In reality, that probably means I'm just as well off letting him decide not to pursue anything with me.  It's still disappointing though.

But any way you look at it, I was charming and had a great time.  And in the end, I think that's the most important and most encouraging thing to me.

Plus, it's the first date ever in which I got to reminisce about The Facts Of Life.

Some lessons are ongoing

Finding that picture of Stockboy (damn, I might have to add him tot he score card if I'm going to keep talking about him) got me strolling down memory lane quite a bit the past few days.  It occurred to me that my relationship with Stockboy was the beginning^[1] of a journey of healing for me.

Stockboy was my second boyfriend.  Before then, I had only ever been with Satyr Boi, an expereince that could best be described a train-wreck of a six month relationship in which I was emotionally entangled with someone who didn't know how to deal with his emotions and only showed any hint of caring about others through sex.  There's a certain sense of irony in the fact that I went from that disaster into a four year relationship in which the most physically intimate thing that Stockboy and I ever did was kiss each other on the cheek (and that only happened twice).

While I certainly would not want to be in such a non-physical, non-sexual relationship for so long now, that relationship worked wonders for me back then.  It helped me to start breaking down the cycle in which I confused love and sex and assumed that the absence of the latter automatically meant the absence of the former.  Being with Stockboy meant teaching myself to see signs of love and affection as they were expressed through other acts.  It broadened my horizons.

At a higher level, that relationship also taught me a lot about self-reflection and self-evaluation.  I learned to look at my behaviors and the underlying thoughts, emotions, and beliefs that motivated them.  I learned to see relationships as being as much about the process of personal growth as it is about finding true love or being with someone else.  In effect, it was that four year relationship that taught me to audit myself -- in a self-reaffirming and constructive manner rather than a self-denigrated one -- and see where I needed to change.  It's a lesson that I've sought to bring forward with me into my relationships ever since then.

Oh sure, I haven't done a perfect job.  On some days, I'm tempted to look at my subsequent entanglements with Sodomy Badge and Hot Pants and ask if I really learned anything from being with Stockboy.  On my better days, I know I did.  Even in those messed up relationships, my self-reflection process was going on.  There were things wrong in both of those relationships and I knew the problems existed at the time.  I simply chose to ignore them.  More often, I chose to make excuses.  "Well, yeah, I know Sodomy Badge is being selfish and mean at times, but it's because he's scared and lived a sheltered life."  "Well, yeah, Hot Pants is behaving horribly, but he's acting out from his painful past."

In those moments, I realize that the process that started with Stockboy simply hadn't completed by the time I got involved with others (and likely still hasn't).  I hadn't audited myself to the point where I realized that I made too many excuses for others or why I was doing it.  Those are the lessons I learned after going through those relationships, thereby continuing those lessons.

---

^[1]Actually, the journey probably started with a single event that took place in my life about three years before meeting Stockboy, but that may be a story for another day.  For now, we'll pretend that the story starts with him.

Checkup, Part 4

Continuing my codependency checkup (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), I notice that this particular section of my old checklist is relevant to recent events in my life.  The characteristics I'm going to talk about was grouped together as "Dependency."  The first one on the list pretty much describes the common theme running through the rest of them:

• believe other people can't or don't love them

I certainly believe that people can love me.  I believe a lot of people -- friends and good family -- do love me.  I seem to be having a hard time finding a guy who loves me on a romantic level, but that fact no longer invalidates my ability to receive and experience love from all of those other sources.

Plus, I'm now more inclined to look at the men who don't love me and determine that we're simply not a good match or that the fault lies with him rather than automatically assume that it's a sure sign that something horrible is wrong with me.

• desperately seek love and approval
• often seek love from people incapable of loving

I don't do this anymore.  I have reached the point that I know I'm worthy of love and approval.  So if someone is unwilling to open themselves to loving me, I move on.  I'm not going to try to figure out how to make them love me or fit into their notions of who I need to be to get their love and approval.

• believe other people are never there for them

I struggle with this to some degree.  I wouldn't say that I don't think people are never there for me.  But I occasionally do wonder why people don't seem to be there for me in a given situation.  (And in fairness, I'm still working on the fact that I don't always let them know I need them to be there.)

• equate love with pain

I remember how I was like this.  Love was all about sacrifice and suffering.  Now, I tend to think "Screw that!"  Granted, I'm willing to compromise and make things work.  But part of healthy compromise is making sure my needs and interests get met, too.  No more one-way giving.

• try to prove they're good enough to be loved
• don't take time to see if other people are good for them
• worry whether other people love or like them
• don't take time to figure out if they love or like other people
• center their lives around other people

I think this is one of those areas where I deserve an actual medal.  I'm tired of trying to prove myself anymore.  I refuse to do it.  If some guy seems to think I'm not good enough for him, he can keep moving.  I'll find someone who has more sense.

And that second one?  That was a real wake-up call for me.  I'm proud of myself that I was ready to turn down the coffee date guy and a few other guys that I've run into.  At this point, I guess I've done a complete 180:  I'm not interested in proving myself to others, but they sure better be prepared to demonstrate they are worth my time!

And no, no centering my life around others and definitely no losing my life for others.  As far as I'm concerned, people can now find a way to fit into my life.  Well, okay, we can find a way to share our lives, but in a way that demonstrates that he values my individuality, uniqueness, and interests just like I value his.

The rest of the list mostly repeats or looks at these same themes from other issues, so I'm going to skip them.

Unrealized Crushes

In my answer to yesterday's edition of "Get Personal With Me," I mentioned that in retrospect, I probably had a crush of Ralph Macchio when I watched The Karate Kid back in the 80's.  I didn't face up to the fact that I was gay until my very early twenties and then took another two years to come to accept that fact.  As such, there have been those few cases where I got thinking back to a casual friendship I had with some guy during my high school years and realized that there were extra feelings there.

The most memorable -- and first -- such incident occurred when I was in my late twenties.  I was on a long drive one day and my mind somehow got wandering down memory lane.  Eventually, the stroll took me to may days in band and I got thinking about the other band members I'd talk to.  I got thinking of a guy -- I'll call him Blue -- who was a trumpet player.  Blue was a year or two behind me and our seats in band practice were close enough that we'd occasionally get chatting.  I got thinking about the laughs we used to have.

Then some part of my mind suddenly decided to offer its thoughts on Blue.  "Man, I had such a crush on him back then."

The moment the thought echoed through the rest of my brain, I was jerked back to the present in a moment of total shock.  I couldn't believe I had just "voiced" that thought.  I had never realized it before that moment.

As I thought about it more, I realized that it actually made sense.  Blue was absolutely adorable with curly hair, a slim build, a fantastic smile, and a wicked sense of humor.  And I could certainly realize how much I had been drawn to him back then.  Had I been in a place in my life where I could have admitted my feelings for him back then....

Well, who knows what would have happened?  It could have been a great first romance (something I might have enjoyed going through back then rather than when I was in my twenties).  Or it could have been a total disaster and caused all kinds of problems for me.  At this point, I will never know.  But since that epiphany during a drive (on a thankfully non-busy highway, given my initial shock), I have gained a greater appreciation for how my mind knew what was going on with me back then and remembers those crushes, even if I wasn't able to acknowledge them at the time.

Well, that was easy.

I haven't heard from Sweet Cynic in about a week now, and I'm quite comfortable with that.  In fact, I may be happy.  Granted, he's gone two to three weeks before contacting me before, so I may be celebrating prematurely.  However, he usually only ignores me when he's seeing someone, and as far as I know (though I'm not going to do anything to really verify it), he's single at the moment.  He broke up with the last boyfriend (I knew about) almost two weeks ago.

It's like this, but with
other people's bullshit.

That's why he texted me last weekend, or at least I assume that's why.  He probably needed someone to vent to about his breakup drama, plus he probably wanted me to take him out to a bar (as he doesn't have a car of his own and decided to move clear out to an isolated location with even shittier public transit than they have in the city).  I just wasn't in the mood for it, so I took one last look at the shiny words "hey hey" on my smartphone and deleted them.  Then because I realized that if I stayed home that night (as I had originally planned) I was going to stew in frustration.  So drove to Home Bar and posted a checking announcing I was there "to get out and have fun before I snap," and went on to have a pleasant day.

I'm sure (Not So) Sweet Cynic saw the check-in, and I'm pretty sure why I haven't heard from him since.  He's probably upset and handling it in his usual passive-aggressive way.  Which is fine with me, as it might get me out of the huge drama that will result from me telling him I simply don't see any value (for me, at least) in continuing our friendship.  But I've also pretty much resolved myself to the choice that the next conversation I have with him will result in exactly that.  No more conflict avoidance on this one.

Granted, I'm starting to think I shouldn't expect any drama, at least not much.  Sweet Cynic doesn't often create scenes, at least not directly toward the person he's upset with.  He's more passive-aggressive than that.  He'll rant behind my back.  Or he'll make snarky comments, comments which I can ignore.  Of course, I can just ignore the drama, too.

The one thing I struggle ignoring, though, is comments against my character or my behavior, at least the ones that I think are unjustified or that act like my choices are in someway unjustified.  I immediately want to stand up for myself and not let things like that go unchallenged.  After all, I got tired of rolling over and taking people's abusive attempts to force a sense of guilt on me for actually trying to look out for myself.

However, I'm starting to learn that sometimes, standing up for yourself actually takes the form of walking away and not replying to the criticisms, attacks, and mischaracterizations.  Sometimes, walking away with an attitude of "I don't have to defend myself from your vitriol because you're just being an ass" is a matter of respecting myself, even if the other person doesn't interpret my actions that way.

But that's one I'm still working on fully internalizing.

Owning my emotions

One of the things I'm proud about with regards to Friday night is that I owned my emotions.  I was able to acknowledge that I was frustrated because of the guy that's disappeared and Sweet Cynic.  I didn't pretend that what they had done to me didn't bothers me.  And yet, at the same time, I also didn't make them responsible for how I was feeling.  I even took care -- and I admit this took a small amount of conscious effort -- to avoid the phrase "make me."  They didn't make me feel anything.  Yes, I felt things because of their actions, things that consisted of a natural response to a couple of guys being jackasses.  But in the end, those feelings were my own and generated by me, not them.  And that's not only okay, but healthy and good.

I experience them all
and they're all mine.

Of course, the other part of owning my emotions was my decision on what to do about them.  I didn't really feel like sitting in my frustrations and stewing in them.  So I figured out what I needed to do to introduce new feelings into the mix last night.  I didn't sit there expecting either guy to "fix" whatever had me upset.  Instead, I decided that I would have more fun, enjoy myself, and be happy if I got dressed and headed out to have a good time.

I didn't repress how I was feeling.  When I got to Home Bar, I was still pretty grumpy, and told Management as much (and why).  That's normal too.  Trying to ignore how I feel wouldn't be owning my emotions either.  But I also remained open to feeling differently.  So as I got chatting with friends and enjoying the music that was playing (and enjoying a Captain and Coke), new feelings emerged.  I enjoyed them, and the frustration and anger, while still there, slipped into the background.

And that is how it's done.

Checkup, Part 3: Denial and Excuses

Continuing on with my codependency checkup (Part 1, Part 2), I'm now looking at the denial characteristics that I felt fit me back in early 2011:

• ignore problems or pretend they aren't happening
• pretend circumstances aren't as bad as they are
• tell themselves things will be better tomorrow
• get confused
• overeat
• watch problems get worse
• believe lies
• lie to themselves 
• wonder why they feel like they're going crazy

This is one of those areas where I particularly feel like I've come a long way.  When I was with Rumor Queen earlier this year, I saw the problems in our relationship.  I didn't try to deny that they existed.  I didn't make excuses for his choices that were hurting me and sabotaging our relationship.  I acknowledged them and eventually acted on them.  Furthermore, I acted on them by accepting that they were there and that there was no way I was going to make them go away, and I walked away as a result.

No more doing this!

Granted, it might have been better if I had walked away sooner, rather than keeping the relationship going for nearly a full month.  However, I felt I needed to give Rumor Queen time to fix the issues rather than immediately dumping him.  Perhaps I gave too much time, but that's something that I can perfect in future relationships (assuming my next relationship isn't phenomenal and lasts till death do us part).  After all, I'm not looking for perfection here, but progress.

Plus even while giving him a chance to fix things, I made it clear that he needed to fix things.  When he ignored me to feed one of his obsessions or get involved in someone else's drama, I made it perfectly clear that it was not cool that he did so and that I was unhappy about it.

When I was in similar situations with Hot Pants, back before I went to therapy, I was much more inclined to make excuses for him.  "Oh, it's because of his bad family life."  "Oh, it's because of past abusive relationships."  Sure, I got angry with Hot Pants too and even made my anger and displeasure known.  But in the end, I'd eventually suck it up, stay with him, and make excuses for him.  Not so with Rumor Queen.

In general, I think I'm more willing to see people and situations as they really are.  In a lot of ways, I think it's because I'm less willing to settle for just anything, whether we're talking about romantic relationships or friendships.  I've come to accept that I'm a quality guy who deserves quality people in his life.  What's more, if someone is not being a quality friend (or lover), I'm far more willing to call them out or even just drop them if I don't think calling them out will do any good.

No LDR's for me

Today, a young man from a Midwestern state contacted me on a social networking site, asking if I'd like to chat.  Me being a friendly guy who like chatting -- especially with young, good-looking guys -- I said sure. We had a pleasant conversation right up until the point if he asked if I'm okay with long-distance relationships.  I told him that I'm not interested in that sort of thing.

It's hard to have this when you're
separated by multiple state lines.

Personally, I don't get the concept of getting into a long-distance relationship anymore.  I can certainly understand toughing it out if an established and stable relationship has to turn into a long distance relationship, say if one person in the relationship has to go on an extended trip for work or the couple is planning a move, but one has to move first while the other one stays behind to take care of business.  In those and similar situations, it makes sense to try and keep the relationship together until those in love can be reunited.  But notice that even in those circumstances, I would only think this if there was the understanding that the long-distance aspect of the relationship was temporary.

You see, the physical side of a relationship is just too important to me.  If I'm in love and involved with a guy, I expect and want us to be close enough that we can spend a significant amount of time holding hands, cuddling, kissing, and making love.  I expect us to be able to fall asleep laying next to each other -- possibly even holding each other -- if not every night, then multiple times a week.  Yes, there's more to a relationship than physical intimacy and sex.  There's common interests, communication, common goals, mutual support, and several other things.  But the physical intimacy and sex is an important and integral part, too.  And that's something I want and need on a regular basis, not just when the two of us can arrange to get to the same state, let alone the same city.

I think this is especially true when a relationship is just starting.  I've come to realize that the kind of physical closeness -- and yes, even sexual closeness and intimacy -- are important components in the process of building a developing relationship.  So I can't imagine limiting my ability to engage in that process more fully by "dating" someone who is hundreds of miles away from me.

I admit though, that I was more open to the idea when I was in my early twenties, just a bit older than this guy.  I don't know if my own experiences translate to him -- and don't wish to suggest they necessarily do -- but I know that for me, it was a matter of being somewhat desperate to find a guy to love.  I had just come out to myself and my friends and moved back to a very rural area.  There weren't a lot of openly gay guys and even less decent venues to find them anyway.  So I'd often meet guys from other places -- some of them hundreds of miles away -- and would want to get into a long-distance relationship with them.  I figured I didn't have any local prospects and -- to be honest -- I was a little desperate.

Of course, at the time, I also had this pie in the sky notion that if things worked really well, I could just move to wherever the guy in question lived.  This was at a time in my life when, as I've noted before, I was much more willing to quickly uproot myself for a guy.  To the point where with some of the guys, I would've moved if they asked me, as I had already convinced myself (way too soon, I admit in hindsight) that things would definitely work out.

Fortunately, I've grown a bit wiser and a bit more careful since then.  I'm not quite so willing to jump in and commit to something under an initial sense of euphoria, convincing myself that it will last.  These days, I want to build things more slowly and know that's the right thing to do.  So I'm not willing to jump into a long-distance relationship because the ability to build those up is severely limited.  I suppose you could say I'm not that patient.

Fun on a crazy night

Last night, I went to Home Bar, and it was a madhouse, even more than usual.  When I got there at 10:30, the parking lot was completely full, which meant that I had to park a couple blocks away and walk there.  I'm not complaining though, as that just meant more walking time for me.  I'm starting to remember just how much I enjoy walking.  (Note to self:  Start looking for walking partners.  Seriously.)

After the chaos of trying to
order one of these, I needed it.

I digress....oh yes, the parking lot was full by 10:30, which never happens.  In reality, I don't think I've ever seen the parking lot full.  I've seen a huge number of cars there around midnight, but there's always a few spaces still available.  So when I get there, I stop by to say high to the guys selling burgers and hot dogs outside, as I normally do.  Then I headed for the front door, got waved through by security, got my wristband, and walked into wall-to-wall people.

There's usually a crowd at Home Bar on Saturday nights, and getting through the place often involves squeezing or crowding through groups of people, but doing so was significantly more difficult than usual.  And getting to the bar to get a drink took five to ten minutes.  That's not the time that I stood waiting for the bartender to ask me what I wanted once I was standing at the bar.  That was the time I spent waiting for the people in front of me to get their drinks and move out of the way for those of us behind them.  I ended up spending a rather small amount of time actually inside.  Between the crowd, the heat, and the noise, it was much more pleasant to stand on the sidewalk outside, which were also pretty full, considering the number of people who had the same thinking.

I think the amusing thing about all this was that last night was a night I kept running into people who are no longer in my life, specifically those people who are no longer in my life for good reason.  They'd come up to me (or I'd walk past them and offer a polite "hello" or a playful elbow to the abs in one case).  In a few cases, I'd stop because a brief conversation would ensue.  Then I'd move on, shaking my head and smiling at my renewed intention to continue to leave them out of my life.

In many ways, it was comforting because it reinforced and reaffirmed the choices I've been making over the past couple of years.  It was nice to be able to smile and (in some cases) speak politely with people who I used to desperately want -- and thought I needed -- in my life, and know that they would quickly fade from my life again and know that is a good thing.

Of course I think the real show of how much I've changed is my reaction to a new guy who said hello to me.  He ended up asking for my number.  I gave it to him, but I don't expect to hear from him.  And while I'm a bit disappointed, I'm also greatly okay with it.  I got the impression that he was more interested in scoring a free drink than in pursuing anything from me.  At least, that's the most reasonable explanation I can think of for his transition from "You're adorable and I want to take you home with me tonight" to "I need to get going, let me have your number so you can call me sometime."

Overall, it was a beautiful and tiring night.  I'm glad I've decided to take it easy today until I head back out to Home Bar later this afternoon (or maybe early evening) to meet some friends.

Drama Addiction

One of the things that has been on my mind a lot lately is the idea of being addicted to drama. In fact, that's what led me to write last Friday's brief post.  It just seems to me that a lot of people -- myself included at one point -- have this need to have drama in our lives, no matter how much we complain about it.  I've called it being a drama queen (where the drama is clearly and directly owned by the queen) as opposed to a drama addict (who tends to needlessly involve themselves in other people's drama).

Imagine my delight when I read the part in Melody Beattie's book where she addresses the topic in those very words:

Many codependents become what some people call drama or crises addicts.  Strangely enough, problems can become addicting.  If we live with enough misery, crises, and turmoil long enough, teh fear and stimulation caused by problems can become a comfortable emotional experience.  In her excellect book, Getting Them Sober, Volume II, Toby Rice Drews refers to this feeling as "excited misery."  After a while, we can become so used to involving our emotions with problems and crises that we may get and stay involved with problems that aren't our concern.  We may even start making troubles or making troubles greater than they are to create stimulation for ourselves.  This is especially true fi we have greatly neglected our own lives and feelings.  When we're involved with a problem, we know we're alive.  When the problem is solved, we may feel empty and void of feeling.  Nothing to do.  Being in crisis becomes a comfortable place, and it saves us from our humdrum existence. It's like getting addicted to soap operas, except the daily crises occur in our lives and the lives of our friends and family.  "Will Ginny leave John?"  "Can we save Herman's job?"  "How will Henrietta survive this dilemma?"

I remember so well the first weekend after I threw Hot Pants out of my life (the first time).  I sat at home going nuts.  There was no drama.  Things were way too quiet.  I ended up calling Southern Helle and telling her, "I've forgotten how to deal with the silence!  I don't know how to enjoy a drama-free night!"

This is the only kind of drama
I want to be addicted to now.

Why do we do it for ourselves?  I think Melody hit a lot of the reasons in the paragraph I quoted.  However, I think some of the stuff that she mentions elsewhere in the book applies too.  I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that other people's drama makes us interesting.  I often felt like my own life, my own interests, and my own activities were terribly boring to most people.  So getting involved in other people's drama and trying to fix their crises was a way to be "interesting by proxy," if you will.  Sure, I wasn't the major player getting all the attention, but I'd get some of the attention from being the drama queen's supporter and rescuer.

For me, part of learning to break that cycle has been about learning that I can be and even am interesting in my own right.  Rather than wrapping myself around other people's drama, I'm learning to put myself out there more as a funny, interesting, and thoughtful guy with my own ideas, interests and pursuits.  It's still a work in progress for me, but I think there's been a lot of progress.  And I know it's already showing.

Seventeen month checkup

I think I've mentioned in passing that I have been to therapy.  I'm also pretty sure that I've mentioned that I was diagnosed as codependent.  When I was diagnosed back in 2010, I started a private, invite-only blog to write about my therapy sessions and my progress to learn to deal with my codependency and make the necessary changes in my life, thoughts, and behaviors.  This morning, I started thumbing through that blog to see if there are any posts I might lift and share (after editing for anonymity of course) here.  As I skimmed, I ran across a couple of posts where I went through the checklist Melody Beattie offers in her boofk describing various characteristics a codependent person might exhibit and offered thoughts on the ones that applied to me.

As I scanned the list, I decided it would be interesting to see how much those same points apply to me now that it's been almost eighteen months.  So here we go.

• think and feel responsible for other people -- for other people's feelings, thoughts, actions, choices, wants, needs, well-being, lack of well-being, and ultimate destiny.
• feel compelled -- almost forced -- to help that person solve the problem, such as offering unwanted advice, giving a rapid-fire series of suggesstions, or fixing feelings.

This book helped
me so much!

This is something I can say I'm almost completely over.  I think my relationship with Rumor Queen proved that a great deal.  I was willing to let him experience whatever emotions he experienced (something that sometimes didn't sit well with him).  The only time his emotions bothered me was when he used his emotions as an excuse to act in ways that negatively affected me.  In those cases, I didn't seek to change how he felt.  I simply made it clear that I wasn't going to put up with his attempts to make me "wear" whatever he was feeling.  "Feel what you want.  But get your behavior under control or we're going to have a problem."

I'm also much happier to let people solve their own problems and fix their own messes.  I've watched Sweet Cynic make some doozies of mistakes^[1] and kept quiet about it.  I simply don't have the time to rescue people from their own bad choices.  I'd rather spend that time treating myself to a manicure or going to see a movie.

Oh, there are days I struggle, mind you.  I think the ones I struggle with most are when I see other people acting in a manner that suggests codependency.  When I see other people trying to control other people's emotional state or behavior, it's very tempting to step in and "make them stop."  Which is an understandable impulse.  Knowing from personal experience how self-destructive codependent behavior can be, it's perfectly understandable that I don't want to watch other people, especially people I care about, engage in it.

The thing is, trying to control other people's codependent behavior is still codependent behavior on my part, so I'm working on letting that go as well.  I've been doing okay.  Not perfectly, but okay.  And that's fine.  (After all, demanding unreasonable perfection from oneself is another common trait among codependent people.  So I'm working to break that pattern as well.)

• wonder why others don't do the same for them

I don't wonder about this so much.  At this point, if others don't seem to do as much more me as I do for them, I simply figure they can't or don't want to.  Then I decide if I think the friendship is worth continuing given the imbalance.

Of course it also helps that I have been more open about my needs with some of the friends I know I can trust.  I've come to acknowledge those people that I can go to if I really need something -- money, a shoulder to cry on, help moving a body -- and simply say, "hey I need this."

That's something that as a codependent person I struggled with (and still do to a lesser extent):  Believing that I have the right to ask for help rather than just waiting for someone to realize I need help and offer it.  I'm learning to overcome that, though.

• find themselves saying yes when they mean no, doing things they don't really want to be doing, doing more than their fair share of the work, and doing things other people are capable of doing for themselves

I think I pretty much covered this in a recent post.  To recap, I don't always say yes, but I rely too much on excuses and avoidance rather than just saying, "Sorry, I don't want to do that."

• find it easier to feel and express anger about injustices done to others, rather than injustices done to themselves

I think I've gotten much better about this.  I certainly had no problems expressing my anger with Rumor Queen when I felt he wronged me.

• feel safest when giving
• feel sad because they spend their whole lives giving to other people and nobody gives to them

I think I covered this above.  I sometimes still give too much, but I'm getting quicker at realizing when that's happening.  And I'm slowly getting better about asking in return when I have a need.

• find themselves attracted to needy people
• find needy people attracted to them

I think the first one is less true of me.  I'm also learning to put distance between myself and needy people.  I do still feel like I attract more needy people than I'd care to.  But I'm also attracting more well-balanced and independent people.  I have people like Management and Sassy Waiter in my life now as well.

Plus I'm less needy myself, which I think helps.  I'm not relying so much on other people to fulfill my needs.  I'm not so desperate to feel like I'll belong that I'll cling to anyone who shows me the slightest interest.  To be totally blunt, I've been developing (higher) standards.

• feel bored, empty, and worthless if they don't have a crisis in their lives, a problem to solve, or someone to help

Well, for starters, I'm starting to learn to leave my love of problem-solving at work.  As for crises, I've found that a much quieter life is far more enjoyable than one that has me jumping from crisis to crisis.

Plus I've rediscovered my love of blogging and writing.  I've made new friends and try to spend more time with them.  Plus I'm building ways to socialize that don't involve crises and other drama.  In short, I'm taking all that energy I used to spend on drama and channeling it into activities and relationships that are much more interesting, much more fulfilling, and infinitely more enjoyable.

I think I'll stop there for now.  I'm only halfway through the bulleted items of the first checklist post, but I think this has gotten long enough for one day.

---

^[1]We're talking about a guy who starts randomly texting someone he hasn't talked to for years, tells the guy he's having a late night meal with me, thinks nothing of it when said guy shows up at the restaurant uninvited and waits in the car until he comes outside to talk, and is totally shocked that said guy "turns out" to be totally controlling a few days later.  Dude, if you can't see the alarm bells when a guy pulls a stunt like that, you're beyond my help.

Fuzzy revisited

It occurred to me the other day, that I never followed up on what happened between me and Fuzzy Pro, who I met back in mid-June.  That's mainly because I'm not exactly sure what happened myself.  All I know is what didn't happen.

I ended up going to the event his club was holding at Manly Bar that Saturday (June 16).  I found him when I got there.  He was busy working.  He smiled and said hi, then told me that he'd be going on break in about twenty minutes.  I nodded okay, ordered myself a (nonalcoholic, sadly) drink, and hung out at the bar, assuming he'd come over and let me know when he was actually on break.

See?  Still whole!

Thirty minutes later, I was still standing at the bar.  I glanced around, and realized he wasn't at his post, so I began wandering around the bar, looking to see if I could find him.  When I was reasonably certain I couldn't see him, I decided to step outside to see if he grabbed a quick smoke.  Sure enough he was outside, talking to friends.  I found it strange that he didn't come let me know he was on break, but I figured I'd just join him and his friends.  So I walked up, joined their group.  He looked at me and went on talking with his friends.  For his entire break, which lasted roughly an hour.

Mind you, he didn't completely ignore me, though I doubt he said more than fifty words directly to me the entire time.  He did introduce me to a couple of his friends.  It was all just very weird.  So when he finished his final cigarette and announced he had to go back to work, I told him that I was leaving.  I explained that I had had a rough day which had left me really tired and not feeling well (all of which was true) and that I needed to get back home so I could rest.  So he gave me a quick smooch (which I get the impression is the equivalent of a handshake in the circles he moves in) and went back in.  I went back home.

I assumed this meant that at some point between our first meeting that Thursday and the time I said goodbye on Saturday, he lost interest in me.  Since I haven't heard a word from him since then, I'm fairly confident my original interpretation was the correct one.

I can't say as I'm too upset about this.  Even that night, other than the disappointment of not having my hopes of at least a couple enjoyable dates (and maybe a romp in the bedroom or playroom) out of the experience, I was fairly okay with the fact that he lost interest.  I suppose in a lot of ways, my recent choices to be more particular about who I want to get romantically or even sexually involved with has also helped me learn not to take it so personally when a guy isn't interested or loses interest.  I can live with the fact that he simply decided I wasn't quite what he was looking for.  And I'm totally past my old tendency to try to find out what's wrong so I could "change" myself to suit a guy's tastes better.  Hey, I figure if a guy isn't into who I am and what I bring to the table, some other guy down the road will be.  And that guy will figure out pretty quick that he's one lucky bastard.

I will admit that I'm still a bit bothered that there was no explanation or no indication of, "Hey, you seem great, but I decided I'm looking for something different after all."  But even that is a minor annoyance and not something that's worth making  scene over.

And besides, he still totally checked me out, and that's still awesome.

Courage

In my last post, I mentioned living courageously.  Whenever I think of courage, I think of a certain quote.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but the judgment that something else is more important than fear.

I first heard that quote as part of the movie "The Princess Diaries" and only found out later that it's a real quote attributed to the otherwise obscure novelist, Ambrose Redmoon.  The moment I heard it, though, I fell in love with the quote, as have many people.  I think it's popular because it let's us know that the fact that we are afraid does not automatically disqualify us from being courageous.  (Indeed, that notion was even the central theme of a relatively recent and popular movie.)

It's a great relief to know that it's okay if I'm afraid.  I don't have to be some stalwart Spartan who knows only the thrill of battle.  I can quake in my boots instead.  All that is required of me is that I grit my teeth, and do what I believe needs to be done, what I believe will be in my best interests, despite the fact that I might need a paper bag to hyperventilate into and a change of pants afterward.  The fact that I did it at all means that I am courageous.

I can feel like this guy
and still act courageously.

Am I nervous about going to the bar on a busy night where I don't know anyone?  That's okay.  I'm allowed to be afraid.  But if I'm serious about meeting other people, I'd be wise -- and courageous -- to do it anyway.  That is more important than my fear and hiding from it.  Am I afraid of rejection?  Absolutely!  And that's okay.  But I don't want to be alone and isolated, so mustering up my courage and reaching out to others, making myself vulnerable, is more important than hiding from that fear.

Truth be told, life is all about risks, and risks are scary.  I think that a person would have to be inhuman in order to be totally unafraid.  But fortunately, we don't have to be ruled by our fear.  We can say, "fears be damned, I'm going to do it anyway and deal with whatever comes, including my fears."

Thank the gods for true courage.  Not the fake "nothing scares me" courage, but authentic "I'm scared shitless, but I'm going to take the plunge anyway" courage.

The journey to belonging

Last night, I went to Home Bar to enjoy a bit of the show upstairs, talk with Management, and go for a walk.  (I love walking through the part of town that Home Bar is situated in.)  After exchanging pleasantries with Management -- who was outside selling hotdogs, hamburgers, and other grilled food items -- I wandered over to the entrance and walked through the first floor to make my way upstairs for the show.

I might become a social butterfly yet!

As I meandered through the karaoke crowd toward the stairs, I found myself nodding to or even stopping briefly to say hello to a number of people:  Fellow Geek, Sassy Waiter, one of Sweet Cynic's former love/sex (it's never clear which he's actually looking for, and I doubt even he knows) interests, and even Rumor Queen.  By the time, the realization hit me:  I can't make my way through this place anymore without running into someone I know.

I'm not really sure when that happened.  I can still vaguely remember the old days -- back before I met Rumor Queen and even while he and I were dating -- when I hardly knew anyone.  Going to Home Bar was an uncomfortable experience for me, because I felt like a lone traveler surrounded by strangers, with no sense of how to say hello or establish friendships with any of the people around me, people who all seemed far more connected.  People who seemed to all know each other and didn't really need some stranger trying to force his way into their social circles.

It made the thought of going out to such a place seem terrifyingly daunting.  It's one of the reasons I was thankful when Rumor Queen and I started dating.  He seemed to be part of that world, and I hoped that sticking with him would provide me with a ticket to becoming part of the crowd, someone truly integrated and welcome rather than a stranger wandering through while remaining an outsider.

Rumor Queen never did provide me a pathway to change that, at least not the way I expected him to.  To be honest, he was the kind to run off and chat with all his friends he already had established history with me and then come back to me when he was tired.  The only way in which he socially helped me -- and I am thankful to him for that, though he may have come to regret it -- is that he provided me with my first introduction to Management and Sweet Waiter.  Through them, I met Sassy Waiter and the rest of the Home Bar staff.  That encouraged me to keep coming back, which allowed me to reconnect with Fellow Geek, who I already knew from other venues.  From there, I just started to meet people.  People even started saying hello to me.

I don't really have a "crowd" or group of friends I hang with when I go to Home Bar.  I'm still very much a lone traveler a lot of the time I'm there.  And yet, I'm a lone traveler who knows people, who is known and recognized by those others, and feels like I'm part of the greater whole.  And it's built a great sense of confidence for me.

As I walked up the stairs to wait for the first show of the night to smile, I smiled at how Home Bar has earned its name in my heart and how that journey has changed me for the better.

Moderation? What's that?

This week was a relatively quiet week.  Three out of the five weekdays, I came home after work and took a nap.  I guess I'm still tired from whatever I did to myself last weekend.  That or else I'm tired from the previous week, which was a constant run-fest for me.

Granted, I like getting out and having fun.  I'm glad I'm doing it more, because it's something I need to do.  I think I just need to find balance.  After all, I seem to have this pattern going:

1.  Realize I'm not doing anything but staying home.  Get sad.
2.  Decide to do something about it.  Start going out a lot.
3.  Tire myself out and either get sick or come to the hairy edge of doing so.
4.  Decide to stay in to get rested back up.  Find myself so tired that I stay in all the time until it becomes my normal pattern again.
5.  Restart the cycle at step 1.

If only one of these could help me
balance my various needs.

What can I say?  Colorful is a creature of extremes.  I'm endeavoring to change that, though.  So I'm trying to go out some nights and stay in other nights in the same week.  I know, this is probably a no-brainer for most people.  But like I said, I tend to go to extremes.  Moderation is a virtue I need to develop.  (That and patience, but I'm going to make that virtue wait!)  So this does involve some learning and practice on my part.

That's why I ended up deciding to stay in last night.  Originally, I was going to go to Home Bar at least to say hello to Management and the others.  But I just decided that I can and will see them tonight.  We can wait that long.  Especially since I stopped in there for dinner on Thursday.

Sweet Cynic was a bit disappointed, as we tentatively planned to go there together last night.  But to be honest, the thought of taking Sweet Cynic with me made the prospect of going out even less desirable.  In addition to the fact that it's hard to be around him when he's drinking, there's the fact that I can't come and go as I please when he's with me.  I've had more than one occasion where I've told him I was ready to go and he kept doing the "one more drink/one more minute/one more whatever" thing until I finally blew up and told him I was leaving immediately and that unless he wanted to find another way home, he better get in the car.

And that's not the kind of person you want to be around when you're trying to develop a sense of balance between going out and having a good time and getting the rest and quiet time your mind and body need.

I turned down WHAT?!?!

Today, Pianoman contacted me, expressing interest in getting together for sex again.  He actually came right out and asked if I was interested, which is more direct than he often is.  It was a pleasant change.  Now, as I've mentioned before, I'm really having second thoughts about fooling around with Pianoman, and I pretty much "forgot" to solidify our plans the last time we talked about getting together.

The thing is, Pianoman is a great guy.  He didn't deserve to have me do that to him a second time, especially since I felt weird about doing it to him the first time.  So I decided to be more direct and honest with him this time:

i'm not sure. I have fun with you, but i'm at the point where i'm starting to want sonething more serious, regular, and committed....and i'm pretty sure you're not at at a place in your life where thats what you want or could give.^[1]

I haven't gotten a response back from him since then, so I'm guessing I've judged correctly where he is in his life.  Which means it's definitely time for me to say, "I love having sex with you, but I want more than sex.  And that means finding someone else.  I wish you the best."

Which I admit is not easy to do because, hey, it was really good sex!  But alas, it's time to move on.  Next, I'll work on moving on without whining about turning down really good sex.  That's gonna take a while, though.

I don't care how good you are with
these, you still can't fix people.

Though in many way's I'm proud of myself.  I'm proud of how I handled Pianoman and I'm (mostly) proud of how I'm handling the whole thing with Sweet Cynic.  You see, in the past, I would've looked at each (or both) of them and decided that the things that make them unsuitable boyfriends for myself are things that I could fix.  I'd start trying to get Pianoman to get his life in order so that he could make concrete plans toward a serious commitment.  I'd start trying to get Sweet Cynic to open up while sober and be more genuine.  I'd try to get both of them to do whatever I could think of to fix what I perceive to be wrong.

In short, I'd run myself ragged, get nowhere, and piss them all of in the process.  And I'd have nothing positive to show for the experience.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

But now, I see can foresee the ugly end result of that endeavor, acknowledge that it's not what I want, and make a different choice.  I'll find someone who is already capable of fulfilling my needs, prepared to do so, and looking forward to the opportunity instead.

Don't get me wrong, it's tempting.  But so is settling.  And I refuse to keep making either of those mistakes and hoping for better results.  I've played that game too many times.  The deck isn't just stacked against me.  I'm convinced all winning hands were removed from the deck in that game.

---

^[1]This is a direct quote of the message I typed in using my phone.  When I'm on my phone, I often dispense with capitalization, apostrophes, and other minor grammar and spelling rules as minor annoyances.

Well, if he had acted like a friend...

It's been an interesting weekend so far.  Friday night, I ended up going bar-hopping with a friend, Sweet Cynic.  (Oh look, a new code name!  I better update the score card!)  Of course, I have to laugh at the idea of me bar-hopping.  I only have about two drinks each evening, so that works out to less than a drink at each of the three bars we went to.  But we had fun, and it was nice to check out each of the venues.  At the end, we ended up back at Home Bar.  Despite the fact that I like Manly Bar and the other place (I'll have to come up with a code name for the new one at some point), I love Home Bar best.  That's where I know the most people, and I like seeing Management and everyone else.  It gives me the sense of feeling welcome.  And being around Rumor Queen has even been getting less weird.

Actually, that's not entirely true.  I've just been enjoying Rumor Queen's apparent weirdness around me.  It's becoming pretty obvious he doesn't know how to act around me.  I won't fawn all over him and I tend to cultivate an air of polite (at least I hope it's polite) disinterest whenever he starts telling me all about his life.  According to Sweet Cynic (who used to room with Rumor Queen), RQ says that he misses our friendship.  Funny how RQ will tell that to other people, but won't say it to me directly.

I now get that this is not boyfriend (or friend) material.
Took me long enough to figure it out though.

The thing is, RQ is missing my friendship because he never figured out how to act like a friend.  He never learned to make my needs and wants a priority.  They were always things to be addressed later.  If there was time.  If he felt like it.  If it didn't interfere with what he wanted.

You know, I sound pretty down on RQ.  In some ways, I suppose I am.  I don't apologize for it.  I take issue with someone who throws around words like "friend" -- not to mention words like "love" and "boyfriend" -- and can't get outside of himself to see what said friend/boyfriend needs and wants, and address that.  What especially gets me is that I don't think RQ even sees that he failed to do that.  That's how deep his own failure to grow up (and I'm convinced it's a maturity thing)f and see beyond himself runs.

But what also bothers me is that I see this as a pattern in my life.  I've historically drawn to myself and become interested in guys who suffer from this inability to see beyond themselves and failure to really pay attention to my needs and wants.  And I find that upsetting and frustrating.

Granted, I know that I'm working on changing that.  If anything, my experience with Rumor Queen actually demonstrates growth for me in that area.  I recognized what he was doing and cut him loose, rather than keeping him around.  But still, I have to keep reminding myself of that.  And I'll be happy if and when the day comes that I see that kind of behavior pattern right away and don't get involved in the first time.

Of course, the real joy will be when I meet a guy who is totally into me, thinks the world of me, and shows it through his actions from the start.