“if you love me take my hand”
Freedomgirl‘s comment (from a while ago, this has been incubating – i’ve decided to post it even though i can’t seem to get it edited) has gotten me thinking, so perhaps i will go into the part where i feel like i ought to feel like things have been moving too quickly. She said, “what is too quickly? too quickly is more than you want. but you want it, so it’s perfect.”
Which is a) insightful and true, but b) brings up a lot of my personal issues. There’s really nothing else to say about point a, but i do want to give it (more than) equal weight to my craziness.
The simpler, and probably less relevant issue here is commitment. Jake used to joke that she felt like we were married. It wasn’t really a joke (it was, if anything, part of our problem later on), but i think it became one due to my somewhat panicky negation of the claim every time.
The thing that perhaps started it among my buddies was a time we were all chatting about relationships or some-such. Someone said the word commitment, and both me and Madam, sitting next to each other, looked over our shoulders and said, “where?!” They had already pegged us as commitment-phobes, but that pretty well sealed it. (And now the two of us have the longest-term relationships of the group…)
Anyhow, all i’m trying to say is that i’ve always been jumpy about “serious” relationships, hence feeling that things have happened very fast. Along with which i went into this with rather strong intentions to take it slow, which failed rather immediately (and led to lots of teasing by Jamie).
But all that really amounts to is an occasional “how strange” reflection, because it is, as mentioned, not more than i want (and perfect).
The bigger issue here is…respectability, i suppose.
I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of effort over the course of my life trying to be taken seriously. This is, most of the time, an issue that i’m over – an echo from my past.
I was always that kid who spent more time with adults than other kids. I can remember thinking, in middle and high school, that, for the most part, people my age were irritatingly immature. And being kind of terrified that the adults – or older kids – whose company i so enjoyed, thought the same way of me.
I was always that girl who wanted to do “boy things,” which was perfectly acceptable until middle school. Because i was too shy to really stand up for myself (or, to be honest, i feel like saying anything about it doesn’t actually make anyone accept you, it just makes them play along), i just had to do boy things well (construction), or at least earnestly (basketball).
In college, it was being taken seriously as an intellectual, or at least as a student. Which is basically the same thing as wanting to be seen as mature.
I have mixed feelings about all of this. I think that i was moderately successful – and i’m not really the sort who can try to re-imagine the past anyhow. I still value all of that, but i’m not so keen on the insecurity that led to it, and i think perhaps i over-valued them. I feel like, as i said, i’m mostly over it, but then it still makes me anxious to even write about. So perhaps it is only that now that i am an adult i’m not often fighting to be taken seriously (the gender stuff kind of fades into the background as well, once everyone is done with puberty).
Here we are, after a long detour, back to the point. It turns out that my fucked-up internal definition of “mature” is “rational” (and it turns out that this is still the goal). And so, every time i feel like i am following my heart over my head (which, let’s be honest, i almost always do) i get a pang of old insecurities. After only a year, it couldn’t possibly be reason having me all tied up the way i am (metaphorically speaking, in this case).
"North Dakota" - Lyle Lovett PS. Jamie - this probably begins to explain my use of the term "crazy" in contexts that seem weird to you.