Boys drool.

I know, I know.. what are we.. five?

Moving on.

I am a chronic crusher. There is always a boy I dream of marrying and sometimes laying in bed before I go to sleep, I whisper my first name with his last and see if it sounds good. This is always changing. Rarely is it the same person between seasons, perhaps even months. It’s never serious (though it might come across as crazy: obsessional: demented: addicted) and usually is just something to think about when I run out of thoughts. My friend Shane doesn’t believe you can think about nothing, but I really do.

So. This crush thing, I am used to. You know what else I am used to? I am used to logic. There have been times when I have met someone, connected with them, and then one day (when I ran out of thoughts!) started to logically work through if we could ever get married or not. This game is fun. I’m a logical person and I like things like this: “You make me laugh and you laugh at my jokes. You don’t like crappy music, you are semi-musical, you love God more than anything…. this could work,” (by the way, I just described AT LEAST three boys I know, without putting much thought into it).

That is how I one day hope to stumble upon the person I will marry. Logic. In fact, if there was an equation with real life variables and stuff, and then… 4(xy+7)+ 12(s-6) = tl4e!! (thats true love forever, ps) then I would be oh so happy. No messy emotions or games or insecurity or any of that crap. Just logic.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work that way. And despite how much I hate emotions……..

there is a person that logically, does not work for me. I’m not going into details because who cares, really. The equation doesn’t work. Maybe in the future? But right now, no. That, for me, is usually peace out time. Insert a great friendship that is lots of fun and without any sort of weirdness or awkwardness because the equation doesn’t work anyway.

No no. That is not what’s going on in my head/heart? Poor little heart of mine, I hope it is just my head.

Really it’s stupid. The whole situation. Not the person. The person is fantastic (obviously). But somehow my emotions sneaked in before the evaluation of the equation could take place. So now I am stuck FEELING things, which is awful.

Last year after my heart got smashed, Ernie told me that I never let my guard down. I argued (Bee once told me I am always being difficult, which is true) that I did – and do – let my guard down. He said that I THINK I have, but really I haven’t. So after a year of evaluating the situation, I’ve come to agree with Ernie.

Right before my heart got smashed, there was a lot of this..

Me: Hey.. so you said you were going to call later last night but you didn’t.. let’s do something this evening!
Heartsmasher (4 hours later)*: I just got your text. I have somewhere to be in an hour, but what did you have in mind?
Me: Oh! Nevermind, maybe we could get coffee tomorrow before church.
Heartsmasher: Maybe. I’m supposed to meet a friend for coffee, I haven’t seen her in awhile.
Me: Don’t even worry about it.. have coffee with your friend, maybe after church 🙂
AFTER CHURCH
Me: Would you like to go to a movie?
Heartsmasher: No. I am in a weird mood.
Me: That’s totally fine. I’ll see you when I’m back next weekend.

90% of anything coming from my end was a lie. By the second text message exchange, I was all sorts of messed up/freaked out/paranoid/scared/crazy. Instead of being vulnerable and honest and admitting when things bother me or hurt me, I try my best to portray what I think is what everyone wants in a friend: casual, laid-back, non-confrontational, and fine with last minute changes.

That’s not me. At all. If you are five minutes late, I have already spent five minutes thinking you hate me and decided not to hang out with me. If the plans dramatically change, I get freaked out and want to go home and cry. I’m easily hurt by people but will rarely acknowledge it. THAT is me. and telling you about it still isn’t letting my guard down, because if you were to send me a message telling me that I am a pile of crap and my glasses are ugly and my nose is in fact as big as I suspect it is.. you’d either never get a response, or you’d get a response that was borderline apologetic. But deep down inside I’d be raging.

That was a bit self-indulgent, but there was a reason. Here is the reason.

I don’t like feeling things if the equation doesn’t work. The equation is like my safety. It’s my “Til St Patrick’s Day,” if you will (John Mayer reference). This is in all facets of life, not even just [romantic] relationships. If the equation doesn’t work, I form no bonds. This is great when shopping. Some people fall in love with a pair of $60 jeans.. and I never love jeans unless they are $20 or less. The equation works, so my love is safe. When feelings get involved, I tend to slowly inch towards learning to be vulnerable and let my guard down. There is nothing in the world I would love more than to be able to be like “YOU SAID LAST WEEK THAT WE WOULD GO TO THE ZOO THIS WEEK AND IT’S SATURDAY AND TOMORROW IS THE FIRST DAY OF NEXT WEEK.” and trust that the person I am saying that too won’t go “Woah, psycho… peace!” and walk out of my life. But I feel like inching towards that without the equation in place is setting myself up for disaster.. because when things don’t end well, it’s almost like my walls double in thickness. One tiny step forward, two giant steps backwards.

Right now I am all kinds of messed up, and I think I need to publicly declare it. The equation doesn’t work; the many variables involved don’t equal TL4E.. or even TL4N (true love 4 now!).. but somehow that’s not deterred my feelings. It’s stupid and it’s so dangerous and I don’t like it. It’s beyond my ability to understand, because I believe in mind over matter.

The matter is overpowering my mind, though. and now it’s messy.

Side note. You probably don’t know the person, and unless we have talked otherwise.. the person is not you. He knows who he is. I thought of putting a flirty winky there, but weighed my options and decided NO.

*I hope to one day rename everybody who has tortured a little piece of my heart into borderline superhero villian names.