My Budding Bromance & My Rising Romance

Romantic relationships aren't the only thing that hopeless romantic males like myself are searching for. We also dig our bromances equally, if not more so. Sure, a woman can stroke your ego, among other things, and provide you with boundless sexual pleasure.

But when you need to beat the crap out of someone in Super Smash Bros., tell someone that you almost walked down the "up" escalator because you were staring at a 10, or aim a fart in someone's direction with pride...well, then you need a Bromance.

While romantic relationships have always seemed to elude me, even when they're right in front of me, I've never had too much trouble with bromances. I'm good at being one of the guys. And lately, a new guy has come into my life, and I feel like something special is blooming.

His name's Ben, and he's a fellow Comcaster. He works on my team, he's a bit younger than me, from NY, we both enjoy video games, and he lives five blocks from me. Lately, we've been chillin' outside of work, talking on a regular basis, and...this part's key...creating inside jokes. Inside jokes are essential to ANY relationship. I live by this rule.

They say that inter-work relationships are bad. Not when it's a bromance.

Ben feels the same way. I can feel it. It's something you just know. :)

On the other hand, an actual romance is perhaps on the horizon for me, as Pam continues to blow up my blackberry on a now daily basis. Knowing I'm a movie guy, she texted me this morning just to let me know that Corey Haim's had passed (RIP). How sweet of her. Despite the morbid news. We'll be getting together at some point this weekend, and I'm very excited about it.

I'm also getting together again with OAOA on Saturday. 'Tis a battle of epic proportions.

-Spontaneous K

Dangerously On Again

I feel like I had the best sex of my life last night. And I didn't have sex.

This is why expectations are the worst ideas in the world. When you have great expectations, and they're not met, you're thrown into a bout of disappointment that's hard to pull yourself out of. When you have bad expectations, it paralyzes you and you can literally create the outcome you so vigorously feared.

I can honestly, truly say that this was the greatest weekend so far of 2010, even though it started out with a Panic Attack so epic that I thought my subsequent weeks to months were ruined. The reason my weekend ended up being so great was because I defied my own expectations.

Before I continue any further, I promise, promise for any new readers coming in, tonight I'm going to be placing TAGS on all my posts thus far, because my story is a pretty detailed one, and if you're jumping in straight in the middle, I wouldn't want you to have missed any of the good stuff. And things are just getting good again.

Spring's coming. It was almost 50 degrees this weekend and will almost be 60 today and tomorrow. I didn't even have any trouble waking up this morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It's one of this sickeningly happy mornings that you only see in the movies. Since spring is just around the corner...let's consider this the end of Season 1 of [My Own Voice Over] and the premiere of Season 2.

See how I did that? Seasons? Because Spring is a season? Aren't I clever?

For anyone following, you're probably wondering how my evening went with OAOA. Things have been rocky and emotional between us to say the least, especially since the her trip to the ER, which I thought was an amazing time and actually wasn't.

Well last night actually was an amazing time.

We were going to the Continental Midtown, which is a snazzy joint, so I wanted to look nice, but I didn't want to get too dressed up, because I didn't want her to think it was a date. But I also didn't want to dress down too much so it would seem like I didn't care. I said "Screw it" and went with what I felt comfortable with. You can't go wrong with a nice button-down, jeans, and solid shoes.

It was a really nice, quiet evening at the Continental, low music, low lighting, small crowd...we found a cozy corner on a tiny couch, her sipping on a sweet Martini, me relishing in a glass of Cabernet, the both of us celebrating our recent career successes. There wasn't a moment we weren't smiling. There wasn't a moment we weren't giggling or joking or looking attentively into the others' eyes, listening as hard as we could to what the other had to say. We ordered cheesecake and shared it together. We took pictures of the two of us on our phones. I felt confident, secure, and alive...I felt happy.

I know she's not my girlfriend. I know she doesn't want that from me. And as much as I'm in love with her and want that from her, I haven't given up because I believed there was something worth saving in there, and that just because she was a female, doesn't mean she couldn't be one of the closest friends I have. The connection we have is one I haven't had with anyone else, and I know she feels the same, even though not in a romantic manner. Last night proved to myself that I respected her boundaries and gave her the space she wanted enough to trust me again...and maybe we really are "On Again" as best friends.

I know I make her out to be this confusing, wicked female on here sometimes, someone who is dead set on making my head spin, but I wasn't so wonderful to her either in the six months we've known each other. I've been overbearing, melodramatic, needy, clingy...all those things a girl never wants. The reason I believe we keep giving each other second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth chances is because we know there's something great there that shouldn't be discarded...it just needs to be worked on.

As I spoke of in My Role As Friend and also more privately discussed with My First Internet Enemy (whom I miss...Katie if you're reading this, come say hi!) everybody has a specific role in our lives, whether we realize it or not. And MFIE noted to me that while I'm looking for that one person to fill ALL my needs, find people that can fill singular needs in your life, and build and foundation that way.

OAOA fills a big role in my life...some way, some how. And I'm looking forward to see how Pam fits into the whole picture. :)

Happy Spring, all. It's going to be a good season. :)

-Spontaneous K

Getting Back Up On The Ball Return

The title of this post makes absolutely no sense to you, but it will.

My last post, whether you have or have not read it, was a difficult one for me to write. No one likes to advertise their flaws to the world. It (usually) makes them feel quite vulnerable and less worthy of whatever. Let's say someone's friendship or respect. It's surprising to me, however, how often people do the exact opposite when you admit your flaws...they empathize with you and respect you more. Tell you that you're strong.

I also suppose what I'm going through isn't necessarily a character flaw, merely a fact of life. People go through shit. I'm going through shit. There isn't a person I'm going to meet at my age who has some perfect life put together and doesn't feel like it's going to fall apart sometimes. The trick is to find people whose shit complements your shit and you can fix your shit together.

We call that shit love. :)

And while at this point in my life I haven't had so much luck in the "romantic" category of love, I'm quite wealthy in the department of friends and family. I'm extremely fortunate to have people in my life who not only understand what I'm going through, but are being patient and helping me through it...my poor mother for one. I wanted to spend most of my Saturday in my bed, scared to leave the apartment in case of another panic attack, but my mother assured me that my Friday night panic attack was an incident not a setback. This was very important for me to understand, and she had to pound it into my brain several times before I got up, went to my local Starbucks, and wrote yesterday's post.

That evening, I was petrified to go to my friend Andrew's birthday. It was an hour away from my apartment, truly a distance for anyone whose ever had a panic attack and wants to be close to somewhere "safe." But I went. We were to have dinner and go bowling. It was going to be a whole evening. Probably a solid five hours of hanging out. That's a long time for me to spend with people as of late. But I went.

And by god, did I have a blast.

It was me and five of my best friends, guys I've known for over a decade. We've been bowling together since high school, it's one of our favorite past times, and we get really, really into it.

We're also quite good.

This was the first time playing at the alley we were at, so we talked about "breaking in the ball return" or "popping it's cherry." Why would anyone ever want to do that? What does that even mean?

I don't even know how this tradition got started, but we've literally been doing it since we were fifteen years old, and if you don't go through with it, it's bad luck. Every time you get a turkey (three strikes in a row for anyone who doesn't know) you have to hop onto the ball return and ride it like a bull.

It's ridiculous. It draws an insane amount of attention. But it's so much god damn fun when all your friends are cheering you on.

I rode the ball return twice last night. :)

It felt good to be out and to feel confident after having such a horrific evening prior. My mother was right. It wasn't a setback...it was just an incident. If I held onto it, then it would be a setback. But I had to just keep moving forward, and I did.

Amidst the evening, OAOA did text me...she got into an Art Show she had applied for in Seattle. She was so excited...and she wanted me to come celebrate with her soon, which is what I'm going to be doing with her in about two hours from now. Getting a drink at the Continental Midtown, something we've been planning on doing for months, before going on and off. I know what you're all going to say...the same things you've been saying to me before.

Sever the ties. Kick the bitch in the face.

Aaah, but I can't yet. Perhaps I haven't learned my lesson. Perhaps I'm a fool with a good heart and high hopes. Perhaps I believe that deep down she's got good intentions for the both of us, even if they're not exactly what I want.

But one thing's for sure...Pam did finally get back to me. And she wants to meet me this week. And I WAS excited to hear from her this time.

So if OAOA really wants me...she might have some competition. :)

-Spontaneous K

The Truth About My "Illness"

In my "About Me" I claim that I'm a lot like JD from Scrubs. And I am. I'm goofy, I'm a bit of a woman, I have man-love for the guys in my life...I don't land as many ladies in bed as he does, but I certainly mess up relationships as regularly as he does...and he's constantly on the prowl for approval from friends and mentors.

Unfortunately, TV Land is nothing like Real Life Land...I wanted to write just now that RLL is a helluva lot worse than TVL, but it's not. It just has a lot more to offer, and some of those things can be pretty harsh and unwelcoming. While a situation like the one I have with OAOA would work perfectly well in a sitcom...what I've been dealing with for the past couple months simply wouldn't. See, there's nothing too happy or too funny that you can't put into a sitcom...but there are some things that are too hard to touch on, even for Scrubs, which deals with death and pain on a regular basis.

Maybe I'm not giving Scrubs enough credit. Anyways, here's the deal.

I'm dealing with an acute case of Panic Disorder/Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As much as I want to portray my life on here as fun and interesting and exciting...which it is...there's also this part of me that has been struggling more than I've ever struggled in my life, and I haven't talked about it on here in fear of losing readers. But it occurred to me that the whole reason I started this blog in the first place was to help myself get out all of the emotions that I have no where to place...the emotions that some of my friends and family, and people like OAOA, just won't understand.

I had Panic Attacks when I was much younger, in my earlier teens, but they subsided with some medication. The depression, however, was something that I continued to struggle with way up until, well, now. Depression is an ugly beast. It can incapacitate you in ways you didn't think possible. But I've discovered recently that there are other ways to be incapacitated that make depression seem like a better option.

I'm not a drug user. Never have been, never will be. So whatever prompted me to try a hallucinogenic drug called Salvia right before the new year is beyond me. It was supposed to be this calming, out of body, spiritual experience...I suppose for someone who is in the right state of mind. Unfortunately, my experience was the opposite. It was the most terrifying thing that I had ever been through, and I panicked so greatly, wanting it to be over that had my friend not been there to watch me, I might not be sitting here writing these words to you.

In the subsequent weeks, I had flashbacks to the trip, severe panic attacks, and persistent symptoms of vertigo, numbness, tingling, dissociation, hot flashes. One flashback was so bad that I took myself straight to the ER.

I was pretty sure that I had done something permanent to myself. That I had altered my brain chemistry, unlocked some latent psychosis or schizophrenia, and that I was permanently damaged. I was in danger of becoming agoraphobic. I couldn't go out for extended periods of time, I couldn't see my friends, I constantly felt terribly physically ill...in every sense of the word I thought my life was over because of a stupid mistake I made.

And of course, OAOA wasn't there for me when I needed her most.

I saw every doctor to make sure I was okay. I saw a neurologist, I saw an optometrist, I saw an Ear, Nose, Throat Doctor, I'm seeing a Psychiatrist, and I had my blood taken to make sure everything was working properly.

All tests came back immaculate. I'm the healthiest 25 year old on the planet. I don't have to see another doctor for another five years, and my psychiatrist is assuring me I'm not schizo. She hasn't even diagnosed me with anything in particular, Panic Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress are my own diagnoses based on my symptoms and what I've read on the internet. She just has "General Anxiety" written down. Apparently I'm making a huge mountain out of a molehill.

But how could I not? I saw the end of my life. I literally thought that in mere moments I would lose control and be dead. And that memory lingers on within me.

This past week, the symptoms started to subside. I started to feel myself again. I went out to that show with OAOA, had my first beer in nine weeks, and I didn't freak out. THAT situation above all should have made me freak out. But it didn't. So I felt capable. I felt back on track.

Last night was supposed to be a guy's night. Five of us were going to get together at my best friend Dan's...the place where the whole bad trip went down in the first place...have a few beers and then head out into the city. I was really looking forward to it, because I hadn't had a night like that in months. I should have known better though. Merely talking about the experience is enough to induce a flashback/panic attack to the whole experience, so actually being in the location that it happened with the person that it happened is a recipe for disaster. Ever since, I had had trouble going back into his apartment. There were times where I literally waited outside for him to go in and get something, because I just couldn't step foot. Then again, there were times where I successfully spent hours there...stressful hours...but still, no panic.

Last night though, I was there for 15 minutes, and then BOOM. I was back into having the salvia trip. Dan and I were in the middle of a conversation and I said to him "Excuse me, I'm having a panic attack." And he was just like "Ooookay."

The whole experience lasted maybe fifteen to thirty seconds. I stepped out of his apartment and sat down on the steps in the hallway, closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and willed it away. But I was shaking. I was petrified. I knew I was going to be okay, but I had no interest in hanging out any longer, I wanted to go home, somewhere safe, and just...be.

Two of my friends, who were not friends with Dan, were supposed to be coming over to help show Dan's new friend around Philadelphia. When I canceled, the other two didn't come, leaving just Dan with his friend. I felt completely awful.

I spent the evening ruminating on how well I had done recently, how I took a huge step back, how I completely ruined a friend's evening, and acted out of control. That just made it worse. Sometimes I have tiny panic attacks that are easy for me to deal with, so easy that I don't even have to mention to anyone that I'm having them...but when I have one as strong as the one I did last night...well, I feel like it sets me back twenty steps. I feel like the day after I had the original bad trip. Like my life is in complete disarray and there's nothing I can do to fix it.

I'm supposed to go out tonight to my friend Andrew's birthday, about an hour away from my apartment. It scares me to want to go that far in case I feel the need to leave. Dan's apartment was literally around the corner from mine and I couldn't stay. Granted, his apartment is the trigger of all triggers...it's the place where all my current fears were unlocked, and I haven't had a panic attack NEARLY that bad in a place that wasn't his, or when I wasn't around him. So I'm sure I'll be okay. What kills me is that, right now, I can't be around my best friend or the place where he lives...

And it doesn't change the fact that I'm scared. Truly scared. I know I can't go back and change it...but of all the things in my life I wish I hadn't done, whether they were bad financial decisions, bad relationship decisions, or whatever...I wish I had never taken that drug.

Some days I feel like I've got all the strength in the world to get over this.

Today I don't.

-K

P.S. Regarding Pam, I emailed her when I got finished with OAOA, sent her something real nice, and asked if she wanted to get a cup of coffee with me on Sunday. I haven't heard from her. I know I'm not supposed to over-analyze, perhaps she's just busy...but I was hoping to hear from her again. Not a good Friday.

My Naming Convention/My Evening in Fishtown

I don't like it anymore.

Not that I don't love Scrubs, nor do I dislike the naming convention of their episodes for their episodes, but as of late I've found myself wanting to title my blog posts with a little less constraint. So this will be my last post with the "My ..." post title.

Is that alright? I hate to change the theme of a blog in the middle, but things evolve, right? I didn't really have any idea what this blog was truly going to become (still don't) when I started it, so I figure, why not let it grow into itself? It will find it's own purpose. I will find my own purpose.

The name of the blog itself, though, stays. I dig it.

Anyways, onto more important matters. OAOA. Dun dun dun. Hell, we argued about a week ago regarding space while she was in Atlanta, and I hadn't heard from her since. She didn't even respond to my "Fuck you recession" facebook status explaining to the world that I actually now have a great job, which everyone responded to. I deleted her number two days ago so I wouldn't be tempted to call.

I'm on eharmony. There. I admitted it. It's not the first online dating site I've tried either. I've tried online dating for many years on and off. Eharmony, I think, has the best method of matching people, but at the same time, I bought a year subscription, it's been nine months, and I've still had no luck. I've gone on countless dates, but nothing has truly surfaced. To be fair, I stopped checking it for about four months while OAOA and I were still somewhat questionable. A few days ago, I was matched with a girl named Pam. Like from The Office. A show which she loves. Yay, we both love funny shows! I saw her picture and her profile was only half-filled out, so there was a chance she wasn't even a full member, which meant if I emailed her, I'd get no response. She also only had two pictures, which I was "meh" about at first, but I decided "What the hell?" and sent her a message.

Much to my surprise, she updated her profile to completion, added more pictures which make her seem lovely, and we've been emailing back and forth. She seems really great. Trying not to get my hopes up, but she does.

Then...yesterday...as I'm waiting as patiently as I can for my next email from Pam, I get a text from a number that's not in my phone asking me "What r u up to tonight?" At first I thought maybe it was Pam, whom I'd given my number to. Then I realized it was OAOA.

Christ.

I ended up going to a show with her in Fishtown. Just the two of us. Granted, I had fun, and it was really nice to see her, it's like a drug high every time. I get this rush when going to see her, and it fades over throughout the night. I can never get over how beautiful she is and how I'm just not allowed to hold her or kiss her, and as we stood next to each other on the balcony, watching over a man play beautiful music on his guitar, I tried to savor the moment as much as I could thinking "I don't know how much longer I have with her in my life and I should just cherish the moment, whether she's in my arms or not."

Pam emailed me while I was with OAOA at the show. I had waited all day for that email. And I hated myself. Because when I got it, I didn't care. God damn you, OAOA.

-K 

My Mental Event Horizon

I'm a science nerd, particularly when it comes to astronomy, so for anyone who doesn't know what an Event Horizon is, it's the imaginary sphere surrounding a black hole in space where if you cross it, the gravity is so great that nothing can return, not even light.

A little heavy for a metaphor regarding my mental processes, but whatevs. I got hit with a couple downers yesterday. The roommate was picked up by a sports star, several pages of my screenplay that I'm working on were not very well received by my writing partner, my car is costing me a fortune and I can't seem to find a good way to get rid of it, and I was just downright too tired to get any work done. Knowing myself, when I start to feel the failures piling on, I begin to think of other failures...particularly ones with recent women. So OAOA was on my mind. And that is the slippery, slippery slope toward my Event Horizon of a bout of mild depression.

When things are going well, we tend to think about more good things, and so life seems great. However, the opposite is also true. When we start to think about bad things, we begin to dwell on more bad things, and the downward spiral begins. I'm particularly prone to each of these positive feedback loops (don't be confused by the world positive in that term, it doesn't mean "positive" in the good sense, just in the sense that it keeps feeding itself).

I got an adequate amount of sleep last night, but I was still deathly tired upon waking, which I knew meant I was treading on mental thin ice. I wanted to call out of work and stay in bed (that would have been the nail in the coffin), but I knew I had to pull myself out of it quickly. The more I fed it, the harder it was going to be. I've quit jobs in the past because I was too tired to get out of bed (this was a long time ago before I lived in the real world and had real responsibilities), but I knew that was not an option right now. I'd gone to work through a painful illness the past two months, I can get the hell out of bed and go to work while tired.

When you're in the thick of it, and you can feel yourself falling, it becomes more and more difficult to find things to brighten you out of that bad mood, but it's essential. We almost become possessed, unaware that we even have a choice as to what mood we want to be in. Often times we wake up on the wrong side of the bed and go, "Today's going to suck." Sometimes we're pleasantly surprised when it doesn't, but most often, it does.

We're human. Things upset us. I can't be mister super positive every day, no matter how hard I try. But if I want to be a stronger, more secure and independent adult, being aware of when I'm slipping into a negative state and taking action to pull myself out of it is a most valuable skill.

Tell me...what do you guys do when you feel yourself slipping?

-Spontaneous K

My Own Medicine

I’ve been feeling really good these past couple days. And sometimes I feel like there is some societal rule that feeling good isn’t allowed. At least in America. If you’re feeling good, then something’s wrong with you, because life is hard, god damnit, and you’re supposed to be miserable.
 
Blasphemy, I say!

If there’s one thing I’m not going to feel guilty about, it’s feeling good. Right now I’m feeling good about my life. I’m feeling good about my job, I’m feeling good about my health, I’m feeling good about my looks, and I’m feeling good about my dreams and my goals. I’m enjoying life, as they say. Even better, I’m enjoying these days because I’m feeling like I’m moving on from OAOA. Thank the lord.

One of the reasons I'm feeling so great is based on an idea I broached in My Great Disconnect about challenging beliefs and logic. Posting my photo on hotornot.com for the world to see...and rate...was a scary thing for me to do. I was forced to see the truth of how the women of the world perceived me. What I discovered was that I was perceived higher than I perceived myself.  It was not only an instantly confidence booster, but it allowed me to see what I was doing wrong in person, both mentally and socially, to have people perceive me the way I perceive myself.

Seeing things from new perspectives is always great. Sometimes, though, it gives you a taste of your own medicine. When you've been doing something wrong for so long, something you thought was okay but couldn't figure out why it didn't work, it's not until it's done to you that you realize why your methods were bad. Hot or Not also helped me to figure that out.

I spent about four hours last evening talking to a girl from Albany, NY who was all about me from the minute I clicked "Yes, I want to meet you too." She went on and on about how handsome and wonderful I was, how she wanted to travel immediately down from Albany to meet me, how we'd talk every day and share everything, and she kept apologizing for being so forward.

At first it was endearing. After a short while, it got overwhelming. Today, it's scary.

I can't be too upset with her, because I get it. I've been her. I'm really picky, and when I find someone that I actually like and connect with, I latch on to them with the excitement and desperation of a five year old, thinking I'll never find someone else and that they MUST love me. That isn't the way to woo the heart of the object of your affection.

I'm starting to feel good in my own skin for once. I'm starting to realize that I create my own value and that I don't need someone to make me happy. And now I have to help this girl learn that, at least a little bit, by doing the right thing and letting her know that she's laying it on a little too thick. Just because we love the same activities, Scrubs, Video Games, music, etc...doesn't necessarily mean we're going to make a great couple. Besides, she lives in Albany and I live in Philadelphia.

This is a great lesson for me to learn, especially now that I'd like to be a little more laid back with my relationships, and that's to let things move as they should. Slowly and effortlessly. Pressure and coercion don't create good relationships, patience and wonder do. I can see clearly by her actions that she's making the same mistake I was making with OAOA. She's already depending on me for her happiness.

I can see now how I've made some girls feel in the past by being intense. I think I'll now opt for the confident, secure, and mysterious disposition. :)


-Spontaneous K

My 20th Post

That's the music I want to play every single time I receive something awesome in my life. I want it to play and I want to be able to hold the item up really high with a delirious expression of achievement on my face, just like Link does. (If you can't see the above video, wait a minute, I'm working this post remotely.)

I have a confession to make. I'm a bigger nerd than you all think I am. And Scrubs is not my number one passion. So what takes the cake? What's my number one love that surpasses Scrubs and even OAOA?

Video Games. Mmmm. Particularly old school ones.

While life would be fun if it were like Scrubs, life would be even MORE awesome if it were like video games. If I could touch a flower that would allow me throw fireballs, or shoot a hookshot to the signpost across the street and have it pull me across, shit would be amazing. Life, of course, isn't like that, so I live vicariously. And that's why I have this blog with my internal commentary! Because when I do receive fun trinkets or great objects, the above sound plays in my head.

 
 

So what did I get? Well, it's a little boring compared to something like the Mirror Shield, but I've received some medication that's going to help me with some chronic symptoms that have been plaguing my life for the past eight weeks. Plaguing is not a hyperbole...I haven't talked much about it in my blog, because it's a little deeper than I'd like to get here, but the fact that I'm on the path to recovery is a happiness I can't explain. When I would feel really ill, it didn't matter who was thinking what about me, it didn't matter what OAOA was up to...it really wouldn't have mattered if she were there and comforting me because nothing could make it better. When it comes down to the hierarchy of needs, things regarding health, like thirst, hunger, breathing, and illness or physical pain, surpass all other "needs", including the "need" of another human being. As someone who has been perfectly healthy his whole 25 years, and for the first time thought life was potentially over, this is a great lesson for me to learn.

MY KARMA

The universe is not without it's irony. While I sit here day after day complaining and wondering about what to do with OAOA, I'm not the only human being that's having problems with their loved ones. For the past week or so, I've been receiving daily calls from my friend Edward in LA, not only to check on me, but to commiserate since he is also going through a tough break up. Then, at around 3:30am last night, I receive a phone call from my friend Katie (my actual best friend, not someone on and off), who had moved to Chicago back in August. When I answered the phone, she was crying. She had just broken up with the boy she moved there with, the boy she planned to marry. The love, it seemed, was no longer there, and they were no longer able to continue working at it. So I thought to myself: "She's one of my best friends, and this is the universe's way of telling me to pay it forward. She needs my help, and it doesn't matter that it's three in the morning. Comfort her and be there for her."

So I was. And she wished that he (her boyfriend) could sit there and comfort her when she needed it, just like I would at 3am.

I have what it takes to be an amazing boyfriend. I've got what it takes to be an amazing friend. So I'm taking these opportunities, especially ones like with OAOA, to improve flaws that keep romantic relationships from occurring.

I spent several hours talking to my new roommate Jess last night. She's very attractive, don't get me wrong, but I had no romantic attraction to her when I moved in, just a slight physical one. But the more we talked, the more we realized we have in common, as far as goals and dreams are concerned. We have a lot of fun. And it's nice to be able to come home to someone who says "Hi! How was your day?" or "Good morning!" when you wake up or "Good night!" when you go to bed.

Romantic roommate relationships are trouble. But we're only going to be roommates until May 31st. I'm not going to pursue anything, because I'm certainly enjoying what I've got...but there really is a time limit, and because of that, anything can happen.

And remember Tara from My Small World, the girl I met during snowmageddon? Well, I'm having drinks with her tonight. Not necessarily in a romantic manner, but still...new friends are great. :) And it's going to be during another snow storm no less.

As clearly stated by the title, this is my 20th Post. That's a small milestone for me, and I'm glad I made it here. I'm excited to see where posts 40, 60, 100, 200, and so forth bring me. As of right now, things are looking bright.

Thanks to all my readers and to all the new friends and old friends in my life. Going back one more time to my health...if I can manage to overcome what I've been through in the past two months...then there truly isn't anything I'm not capable of doing.

-Spontaneous K

My Attempt to Communicate with OAOA

Okay. I know I promised I wouldn't mention OAOA, or at least I would keep it to a minimum...but a wise commenter was correct in saying that as much as this blog is for the readers, it's also about me, and if venting about OAOA helps me move on or feel better, then by all means, write about it.

Three days after she told me she needed space, she emails me asking me how my move was and such. This, naturally, is confusing for me. For the past couple days, we've been shooting emails back and forth sporadically, very very basic emails. Y'know, "How are you? What's Atlanta like? How are things in Philly? Liking your new roommates? Etc. Etc."

Bullshit conversation. It's bullshit. I'm no master when it comes to sociology, but as a writer for over 18 years, I'm trained to read subtext. In a real life conversation, it's a little bit more difficult for me, but don't you ever write me anything before considering that I can read between the lines. And I can read between the lines very well.

OAOA wants something from me. I don't know what it is, but she wants something. Perhaps she's bored in Atlanta. Perhaps she doesn't have anyone to talk to now that she's been stripped of her core group of friends for a short time and is missing the connection we once had. I don't know exactly what she wants, but there is purpose in her emails. Even if it's just to remind me that she still cares about me after hurting me.

People don't just speak. We don't just act. That's not what words and actions are for, they're not a random spattering of expression. Words are used to control. While we think they are used to convey, the underlying goal of speaking...or doing anything...is to attempt to manipulate the environment in a manner that is more acceptable to us. There is no denying this. So whether her motives are small or big, malicious or well-intended, she's attempting some form of control. And I think she's trying this because I always gave her control, and now she thinks it's gone because I told her I'd give her the space she wanted.

Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes we don't always want that space even when we say we do.

I can say that because I've done it. I've said goodbye to her because I couldn't handle just being her friend while being as close to her as we were, but then days later I'd contact her again because I didn't really want her gone.

We basically were in a relationship without having any sex. Wonderful emotional bliss, absolutely no sexual release. This, naturally, created some wicked frustration...at least on my end.

Yesterday, she responded to an email that I had sent the day before. She took an entire day to respond. That's fine. I was actually okay that she took that long to respond. But I had to take a friend's advice and WAIT. Don't respond right away, wait as long as she did to respond. It drives them nuts. It shows you have control, and a life of your own. Normally, I'd have been so excited to get an email from her that I'd write back instantly. But I waited. A whole day. And guess what happened when I emailed her back (with an email as brief as she sent me).

She got back to me within twenty minutes.

Maybe I'm looking too deeply into this. Maybe I'm not. But I know how she and I work. So I'm playing this game very carefully. She asked me something in this last email that threw me off a bit. Most of the conversational questions have been rather blah...inquisitive questions that any friend would ask. She, however, ended her email with "How have you been sleeping?"

Once again, could be reading too deeply into this, but I also may be reading it correctly. People who aren't your girlfriend or your mother don't ask you how you've been sleeping. People don't care about how you've been sleeping unless they genuinely care for your well being. As stated in My Sleepless Nights, I have nightmares, and I've been going through a lot that hasn't been allowing me to sleep very well.

Here's where I'm stuck. This could simply be her way of saying "I'm wrong and I'm sorry" because she doesn't know how to communicate how she's feeling, but because she doesn't know how to communicate how she's feeling, I have no way of knowing unless I ask.

I think I just answered my own question before writing the sentence I was going to.

The friendship/pseudo-relationship is already in a shit-storm and can't get a whole lot worse. I'd probably even benefit from it being completely over. So I was wondering if I should just NOT say anything and let this continue to build back into the nice thing that we had before. But then I realized that would be self-masochism. It might be nice for a little while, but the problem isn't solved. Even if we're going to be friends, we need to be able to communicate. I was afraid to ask her what she's thinking by contacting me and asking me about my life when she said she wanted space, in fear of her leaving again, but when it comes down to it, unless she learns to open up and communicate, she's not good for me and shouldn't be in my life anyway. It's not as big of a risk as I think it is.

So here goes nothing. Let's decipher her motives. Wish me luck.

-Spontaneous K

My Second Steps Forward

They say the first step is the big one. I say it still takes a manner of awesomeness to take step two and keep going.

I want to thank everyone who provided me with the insight that I was begging for yesterday like an incapable fifteen year old: Passionista, imerika, Katie, and JenJen. (All girls! Booya! Oh, and please check out their blogs via the comment section of this post, cuz dey legit [Note to self: Stop using street talk. And colons. And ellipses...and parentheses, especially parentheses within parentheses]). Sometimes a verbal smack from someone who isn't clouded by their panicky emotions is enough to bring us back to reality and allow us to think clearly.

From the bottom of my heart...I'm not an incapable fifteen year old, no matter how much I act like one (It's fun sometimes, when there isn't a real problem). I'm a capable 25 year old, and I'm going to start acting like it. Each of my blogger friends said much of the same thing with their own special touch. I'm a grown man, I'm awesome, and I need to live my life independent of what this girl is doing.

She wants her space? She's got it. Best for the both of us. So onward from her.

From this point forward I'm going to attempt to keep any words of OAOA to a minimum. I've been writing this blog for 17 days now (Woot!) and I've noticed most of my talk is about her. That's unfortunate, because I have an entire life to talk about. Like a whole one. Whole being key word. Not sort of empty because I don't have her or some other girl, but a whole life.

Even though I have written a lot about her, the point of this blog has become truly apparent to me now that I'm 17 days in. It doesn't matter what's going on, there's always a story to be told, there's always something that you can learn and experience in your day, even if you think you did the same thing you always do on a Tuesday. (If you recall from My Hump Day, I don't even know where to start on how I feel about Tuesdays. Staff Meeting. Blah.) I'm proud that I've kept it going for this long, and I'd love to be able to reach the month milestone, the two month milestone, and, god willing, the year milestone. How cool would that be to be able to look back at the year and see a story each day? To truly understand what you went through over the course of one year? I'd like to see it. At this age, time flies by so quickly that I've found myself come each December 31st going "What the hell happened this year?"

If I write here, I'll know. :)

I should start labeling the posts though. It's hard, because I do the posts remotely, since work blocks www.blogger.com. I'll figure something out though. Perhaps go back at the end of the day and label the shiz out of them. Okay, I'll keep with the street talk. It's funny when a neurotic Jewish guy tries it.

On a great note, my new roommates, Jess and Josie, are awesome. I stayed up (WAY too late) talking with them and getting to know them. They even invited me out with them, which is really cool. It's nice to be able to come home and have people to talk to for once, people you enjoy. Even though it's only for three months, I'm thinking it'll be a three months that makes a good mark. And if it doesn't...oh well, right? Onward Ho:

Lastly...and I'm not a vain human being, I'm just completely surprised at this...a friend of mine suggested I try www.hotornot.com to try and meet girls. He's dating a few from there right now, and I was like "Really? From there?"

Why not.

I posted my pic. Now, I use the Internet a lot. A lot a lot. People are assholes. There are some mean mother-effers out there (I'm feeling the need to keep this blog semi-clean). For those not familiar with "Hot or Not", you rate pictures of others from 1 to 10 based on attractiveness. You can't really get more superficial than that. I expected myself to be in the 6-7 range, average.

Hmm. No.

Very much to my surprise, after having 54 women vote me thus far...FIFTY-FOUR (that may not sound like a lot in terms of the Internet, but imagine 54 people standing in front of you and then telling you what they rate your attractiveness. It's enough to make or break your ego)...I have an average of 9.3.

I'm not bragging. Because I still don't really believe it. It doesn't make sense. Somebody's joshin' with me.

Or maybe I should just give myself some more credit.

But a 9? Really? :)

-Spontaneous K

My Utter Confusion/My Call For Help

I'm trying not to do double titles here, since Scrubs never did that...but this morning calls for desperate measures. Anyone out there who's reading my blog, and I know you're mostly twenty-somethings, please, I need some assistance here. This isn't a pathetic cry for comments, I'm quite happy with the amount that I get, I just don't know what to do right now.

So, if you've been following, you know all about My On And Off Again Best Friend (OAOA), My Wishful Thinking, My Wishful Thinking Part II, and My First Steps Forward.

For those who haven't been following, I've basically got a girl messing with my heart who I thought came back into my life for a brief moment, upset me by raising my hopes by having a great time with me and giving me a gift, and then dropping off the face of the earth again, saying it was too much too soon.

She wanted her space. Like a gentleman, I obliged.

For the first time since I've known her, she didn't allow me to see her before she went away for a little while. This weekend she took a trip to Atlanta until March 2nd. In the past five months, every time we had to go away, even if it was for a long weekend, she'd make sure she got to see me.

Not this time.

That really put the nail in the coffin for me. I thought it was done. She can come to me when she wants me, I guess, but my friends are telling me to let it go for good.

I had half a mind to unfriend her from Facebook. But I didn't. Because I don't like saying goodbye to people. I like to try to make things work. Although, I'll admit, I'm impatient.

The day after we said goodbye last week, my Facebook status was "Picking up the keys to my new apartment tonight. Life changes. Onward Ho!"

She "liked" my status. Why? Why would she do that? I tried not to over think it. Did she like that I was moving? Did she like that I was accepting that life changes and that I was planning on moving on from her? I don't know. I tried to ignore it the best I could. And I did.

This morning, my phone buzzes. It's a Facebook message. From her. Asking me "How was the move?"

That's all. Short, simple. But SO FREAKIN' COMPLICATED AT THE SAME TIME? Why? Why is she doing this to me? She wants me, but she doesn't want me. She cares, but she wants to care from far away. Do I answer? Do I ignore it completely and let her really drop out of my life for good? I don't know what to do. My friends say she's toxic, my family says she's toxic, and while I admit (clearly from this blog) that we have problems, they are problems I want to fix, because I love her.

Within the first 30 seconds of receiving the message, I wanted to reply. I didn't know with what. I didn't know if I should just say "The move was fine," and leave it at that. I didn't know if I should give her in depth details about how I'm liking my room and my roommates. I didn't know if I should be like "OAOA, what are you doing? You said you wanted space and it's been three days." Is she testing me?

I'm at a loss. I don't know which action to take next. I don't know what she's trying to do, whether it's genuinely find out if my move went okay because she cares, or if she's trying to get back in.

I DON'T KNOW.

And it's totally ruined my morning. Somebody please help.

-Spontaneous K

My Wishful Thinking, Part II

For those just tuning in, please read My Wishful Thinking, Part I.

This is my second post in one day. (My Sleepless Nights, Part II does not count.) So something must be going on.

There's one major reason why OAOA and I just don't work as a couple. If we had never been intimate, we would have worked great as best friends, and I'll tell you why in a second. But as a couple, we were doomed, unless she was willing to accept my help...which right now it seems she's not.

I am someone who is not only very good at communicating how I feel, but I don't even know how to not communicate how I feel. I must get it out of me. If I try and hold it in, my body feels like it's going to explode. Seriously. My emotions create some pretty amazing physical symptoms, and I need to express what's going on inside of me. I do that verbally or through writing, but I can very succinctly describe what I want and how I'm feeling.

People who cannot communicate how they feel frustrate me. They frustrate me not only because I cannot understand why they cannot communicate how they feel, since I've always been able to (I'm working on being more empathetic in this manner) but also because I can sense how people are feeling. When I know someone, if I feel a connection with them, I know exactly what they're feeling almost to the point that I can express it for them. And sometimes I do. And sometimes that amazes people.

OAOA is someone who has an extreme impediment when it comes to talking about how she feels. But she loved talking to me and communicating with me because I could sense her...I understood where she was coming from, she opened up to me, because for whatever reason, I connected with her and I felt the same things she did, and I was able to communicate them and she wasn't. That's why she latched on to me. In the beginning.

When the lines of romance got crossed, though, I became someone she couldn't confide in because her feelings were about me. That's when she would shift her social patterns and her body language, all of which I could read to the "t", and I would literally have to pry out of her what was wrong. Sometimes that would take me days to a week. And during those days I would feel so much sadness, anger, frustration, guilt, and fear that I was almost incapacitated. I was like that because she wasn't letting me know what was going on. She felt all those same emotions...because she was unable to tell me what was going on.

Imagine playing "20 Questions" but already knowing the answer, and it's about how someone you love can't be around you. It's not fun.

That's why I had the dreams I had last night. That's why I haven't been right since I saw her last Saturday. Because I knew how she was feeling, and she wouldn't tell me. She's not comfortable with me yet. She wants her space. And when I asked her why she couldn't just tell me that, she straight up said (via text, because she hates talking when she's uncomfortable) "Because I can't communicate how I'm feeling."

So there she goes. Off again. Until she's ready. Which may be never. I want to say I feel like I've blown my chances, but at the same time I'm not sure this could have gone down any other way. Two people like us were bound to interact in such a way, right?

Doesn't make me any less sad that she's gone. Because I love her. I do. And there's nothing worse in life than not being able to be with the ones you love.

At least I was able to handle the situation with grace, and I didn't allow all the anger and frustration I've been feeling since the weekend become apparent. I was noble and honest, and said I wanted the best for her. Which, right now, meant me not being around. I really hate when that's what's best.

I helped her all the time. With everything. Whenever she needed it. And I truly believed I could help her learn to communicate how she was feeling. Maybe in an imagined future.

For now...I'm really sad.

That's all.

-Spontaneous K

My Sleepless Nights

The subconscious mind is a tricky thing. Even if you think you're telling it wonderful thoughts to send you off to sweet dreamland...it knows what you're really thinking.

Last night was one of those nights for me. One of those nights where no matter how many times you wake up and fall back asleep, you find yourself in the same dream. About the same person.

I haven't been quite right since I saw OAOA last Saturday. She threw me for a loop, as women do, and I interpreted her actions one way when they...as I'm finding out with much disappointment...meant another. And while I wanted to deny any emotions of dependency or need for this girl, my subconscious mind was not about to have it. "YOU WILL KNOW THY TRUTH! YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR EMOTIONS EXPRESSED!"

Oh, did I. (My subconscious mind doesn't sound like God. But maybe it should. Or maybe not.)

I spent my eight hours of rest caught in a whirlwind of dreams all revolving around the same premise: I need OAOA and she's no where to be found. I want her attention, her compassion, in some way shape or form, and she's either ignoring me, or I'm panicking and running all over the place, looking for her or asking people where she is. And after eight hours of foggy meandering, my search came up fruitless. Each time I'd wake up from the dream feeling exactly the way I felt in the dream. Hurt. Lost. Abandoned. Betrayed. Without Value. Oh, and out of breath.

What's unfortunate about the matter is that the dream isn't a whole lot different from real life, and I think its message of a fruitless search is extremely important. The mind and the body know what's good for it, and the dream wasn't there for no reason. In fact, this isn't the first time I've had a series of dreams like this with someone.

In My Great Disconnect, I mentioned someone I spent eight years trying to convince our relationship was worth it. For the sake of anonymity, I'll keep with the nicknames, and I'll call her Firefly.

Firefly was a saga in my life. (I even plan to write a book about it.) It's not just a tiny little piece, right now it accounts for an entire third of my existence. It was a period that forced me to learn, the hard way, what it meant to love someone. And when I had fears that Firefly was going to leave me for good and I'd be left alone to my own hurtful thoughts and emotions, those terrible dreams would nag at me, specifically at times like this. Times where we just started interacting again and aren't sure where it's going to lead.

Now that I'm awake and have more control over what I'm thinking and feeling, it's apparent that I'm once again making the same mistake I made with Firefly with OAOA. But at least I'm realizing it a lot sooner.

It sucks. Every time. Having feelings for someone that doesn't reciprocate never gets easier. Sometimes it gets harder. But the more it happens, the more we come to realize that true happiness comes from within ourselves, and we're the only people responsible for it in our lives. That doesn't mean it's easy to provide it for ourselves...

...but do we want to take the easy road and leave our fate up to others? Or do we want to take our happiness into our own hands?

I'm up for the challenge.

-Spontaneous K

My Great Disconnect

This is an important post.

This morning, I did something I haven’t done…ever really…except for the time I spent 10 days in Israel, but even then I had a replacement on me.

I left my cell phone (more accurately my blackberry) at home. That’s right, ladies and gents. I am, in the 21^st century, the year 2010, without my cell phone. It is not on my person. So what the hell does that even matter?

Allow me to explain.

My crackberry (not a typo for anybody not a techie nerd) is my livelihood, my bread and butter. It connects me to everyone and everything I could ever want. It has every phone number I could ever need, I can reach anyone at any moment, I know the time, the temperature, the weather hour by hour, I can get directions, I can get definitions, I can browse the internet at my leisure, I can keep notes, I can keep count, I can keep a calendar, I can listen to music, I can watch videos, I can see what my friends are up to, I can…lose myself completely.

I’ve admitted to myself that I’d quicker give up my car than I would give up my cell phone. And, to validate the point I’m going to make next, I still wouldn’t give up my car that easily.

Why?

We live in a world defined by the things we have. And that includes the people and social networks we have. My blackberry is worth so much more if I have 500 people I can call instead of five. Or maybe that’s just my skewed logic. And I’ll get more into that later.

While I can’t speak for everyone, I know I don’t speak solely for myself when I say that we think we own our things, but they actually end up owning us. I heard a quote yesterday that was probably the creepiest one I’d ever heard: “Lions and tigers were once the kings of the jungle and now they’re in zoos. I suspect the same future for us.”

And while you may not see humans in the same kind of zoo, it’s a metaphoric zoo. A digital one. One called technology. We’re trapped and we don’t even know it. How Matrix of me.

Now, it’s not so drastic for everyone out there. Not everyone is addicted to their things and addicted to connection. I, on the other hand, kind of am. And that’s why this is important for me. My First Internet Enemy and I had an enlightening conversation about the foundations of beliefs. For the past decade I’ve been feeling a specific way about life, and for the past couple years, at least, I’ve been trying to change it, to no real avail. Or so I THOUGHT I’ve been trying to change it. My circumstances and the people in my life have certainly changed, but how I view life hasn’t changed at all. I’ve learned a lot, but I haven’t applied anything. Because my beliefs are so grossly ingrained in me. So how does one go about changing their beliefs?

Logic. Beliefs are built upon logic. We believe something because it makes sense to us. When it truly comes down to it, 2 +2 = 4 is a belief honored by a logic that we were taught and a logic that we trusted and made sense to us as children. It’s universally accepted that 2 + 2 = 4, so you’d be crazy (by society’s standards) to claim otherwise. But the real truth of the matter is…we just believe that 2 +2 = 4. And until someone or something shifts our perspective, we’re always going to believe that.

This is a stupid cliché, but it’s true. Seeing is believing. And that’s why my beliefs have never been changed. I’ve never witness something that challenged my logic. So what belief am I particularly trying to change?

What I’m worth (or not worth) and why.

Going back to the statement of having 5 or 500 people in my Blackberry, I see the world as quantitative. The more I have, the more I’m worth. The more I succeed, the more value I have. I’m addicted to praise and admiration. And every time I screw up, every time I make a mistake or hurt someone or do something that society has labeled as negative, I lose points. And since we’re human beings, we screw up a lot. It’s even worse when we make the same mistakes over and over…I know I tend to take more points off for those.

Somewhere along the line, I went way into the red…I believe…with my mistakes. So I’ve been scrambling and scrambling to make good on what I’ve done, which in cause has created more mistakes, putting me further into the red. When does it stop?!

It stops when I realize that mistakes are natural, and necessary. I should be freakin’ exhilarated every time I make a mistake, because it’s an opportunity to learn and grow, to become wiser. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and isn’t for most.

I’ve been undergoing a lot of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which is the process of changing your thoughts and beliefs in order to change how you feel. A lot of it is writing. It’s writing down your flawed views and rewriting them with more logic. This is effective. But I need to take things a step further. I need to take action. I need to see to believe. How can you change your own beliefs when you don’t even trust the logic that you’re writing down?

You can’t. The only way to do it is to challenge your logic. Somewhere deep down, I believe I need my blackberry, and I’m scared not to have it. It represents my social world, my praise, the people who care. It represents my knowledge and my status. It’s a tool that I’ve become dependent on. Without it, I’m afraid I won’t be able to take care of myself or get by…I won’t have the people who can help me close at hand.

Once again, this may not be the same for everyone, but technology has made me a tad emotionally weak. I’m unable to do things or learn things on my own because it does it for me. And I’m thinking perhaps it’s time for me to be aloof. Time to be the guy that doesn’t pick up his phone on the first ring, each time every time, but the guy who takes a while to get back to you because he’s busy, or just plain making time for himself. Why does the phone NEED to be answered when it rings? Why should my life revolve around the needs of the entire world that is packed into my mobile device?

And one of the reasons this change ultimately needs to take place is because of my On And Off Again Best Friend (OAOA). My First Internet Enemy also stated how I shouldn’t be going after someone who isn’t sure if they want to be with me, or even want me around. I shouldn’t have to prove to them I’m worth it or convince them to stick around. They should just want to. And the longer my phone is on me and she doesn’t respond, the worse I feel. So if it’s not on me, and I become less connected to it, I have a feeling I’ll become less connected to her and the idea that I need another human being (and their praise) to be happy. I spent 8 years…EIGHT FREAKIN’ YEARS… trying to convince someone who once said she loved me that we should be together always. It’s been 5 months, long months, with OAOA. It hit me this morning that I’m not going to let myself go a day longer. It will NOT be eight years again. Not even close.

It’s about time I challenged my logic and beliefs instead of questioning them. It’s about time I actually faced my fears instead of just observing them. I know there are an infinite amount of ways to view the world. And I swear by myself to see it in at least ONE other way than the way I’ve been seeing it for the greater part of my life.

I may need to invest in a watch, though. My blackberry was the only thing that told me the time…

-Spontaneous K

My Wishful Thinking

Last post I mentioned the blinding pain that almost always accompanies bliss. I'm experiencing that now. And no matter how many times I dream of having this wonderful connection with another human being, it always seems to end in me feeling like the world is crashing down upon me.

As My First Internet Enemy taught me, perceived emotions at face value may not be what you think they are at all. Someone who seems like a jerk at first may actually be someone nice, reaching out in a way you're just not used to. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. Someone who seems happy and excited to be around you very well may not be.

I had a stressful weekend, but the time spent with My On and Off Again Best Friend made it all worth it. I can't begin to explain how happy I was when I was with her and how almost all my problems seemed to evaporate while we were laughing and having fun. She made it seem like she wanted us to be back to where we were. I truly thought that's what she wanted. Why else would she ask me to take her to the ER and then have dinner with me and then ask what I'm doing later in the week and ask if we were back to hanging out?

Am I missing something?

Well. It could have been what I said at the end of it all.

She and I are both extremely sensitive and over-analytical. We're the most sensitive and over-analytical people that we know. And because of that, we're constantly walking on eggshells around each other, especially since it's apparent there are higher feelings involved. This time around, I wanted us to really focus on that fact, knowing that we're like that, and just let it go. Stop worrying about what the other is thinking or feeling and just have fun.

There may not be a "this time around." We've said goodbye half a dozen times already. I'm not sure this is a chance I'm going to get.

Back to what I said at the end. As I was dropping her off and reveling in the gift she had given me, that's when she said "I'm not even sure if you're going to want it." Reminding you that it was a framed picture of her and I, I let her know that I truly did want it, and had wanted it since Christmas. And when she asked if we were back to hanging out again, I knew then and there that I had to say the right thing. I think I blew it.

I said yes. But I had mentioned being her friend on Facebook again and how I wanted to leave that up to her because I want it to be when she was ready. She didn't really give me an answer on it. I mentioned that I just wanted to have fun with her. And then we said goodbye and said we'd see each other later on in the week.

After I got home, I texted her telling her how thoughtful the gift was, and I thanked her for being my best friend. In retrospect, I realized how much pressure "best friend" sounded like.

I never got a response from that text. I called her the next day. No answer. No call back. At the end of the day, I decided to friend her on Facebook myself. Knowing she has an iPhone and is an avid Facebook user, I expected my phone to buzz rather quickly with the indication that she had accepted my request. I waited all night...my phone never buzzed.

That takes us to today. Where I've been panicking. I know her...I know her waaaaay too well, and when she's not responding to me, it's because I've said or done something that has made her uncomfortable. Due to the nature of our past, I wanted to hold out and just pretend that everything was okay, and not bother her to try and get out of her what's wrong, because she's not one to discuss it. She doesn't like confrontation. But I'm too much of a worrier to let it go. So I called her.

I was already beating myself up when the phone was ringing.

She answered, which was a good sign. When I mentioned I had asked her to be my friend on Facebook again, she questioned it, like she hadn't noticed. I'm not sure if it was a lie or not. She went on to say I sounded weird about it when I had mentioned it. Futher more, I went on to saying that we shouldn't worry about things, and that I just want to be her bud, I want things to go back to the way they were, and for us to work on not worrying about what the other thinks. I already knew I was digging myself a hole, because this sounded like a "relationship" conversation and she didn't want us to be in anything close to that. I asked her if she meant it when she said she wanted to see me later in the week. She said yes. But I have a feeling that will be canceled.

I took a walk around the building at work a couple times. I cried in the bathroom. I should have known better. This truly is my gift and my curse. I panicked when she's in my life and I'm miserable when she's not. I guess maybe it's just a curse.

It's funny how something as simple as a Facebook request or calling someone your best friend can change everything you had in mind. No matter how good the intentions. And by the way...still haven't been accepted as her friend on Facebook.

Here's a clip from "My Best Laid Plans" that fully illustrates how frustrating it can be when all you want is the best for those you love, but they just don't see it:

My On and Off Again Best Friend

There are some people you say you'd do anything for. And then there's some people you'd actually do anything for.

And there's never more than one of these people in your life at any given time. But when they're there...you find yourself doing crazy things that you won't find crazy. Because they're for that person.

Mine just came back into my life. (She's a girl, by the way. Usually these people are of the opposite sex. Unless you're a homosexual. Which is fine. It's the nature of the phenomenon I'm going for here.) And she brought up this notion while I was sitting in the ER with her.

The purpose of her ER visit really wasn't an emergency. She had scraped her ankle on a metal cart two days prior and her parents were insisting she go to the ER to get a tetanus shot. And she told me it was insanely nice for me to take her to the ER and sit with her, for something as little as that. I thought hard about that...because if I wanted to go to the ER for something as little as that...well, I'm not sure I would have found anyone to go with me. Except for maybe her.

She and I hadn't spoken for about two months and were very recently getting back into exchanging words. The cause of our silence?

Well...it's a long story. Let's just say this girl could be my Elliot. Or my Rachel. Or my Pam. The "One" that I'll end up with at the end of my series. I've made out with this girl before. Our emotional lines have been crossed. We're not sure where we stand. We just know that we connect on some insane level.

When we're both not being completely neurotic, anxiety-ridden, emotional twenty-somethings.

She was at home, by herself, car-less, when her parents freaked her out enough to consider the ER. And since we were texting a bit at the time, she texts me "Um...do you think you'd be interested in taking me to the ER?"

Of course, I was at her beck and call.

Normally, this would be fine, I'd take any friend to the ER. But this is what I mean when I say "do anything for." She really didn't need to go to the ER. I had just gotten my pupils dilated from the eye doctor, so I couldn't even see straight. Philadelphia just had the most wicked snowstorm, so I didn't even know if I could make it to her place.

But I went anyway.

And we've got to be the only people who have ever sat in the ER for three and a half hours, laughing, catching up, and having the time of our lives together. My heart stood still when she said the words, "I've missed you."

I had missed her too. And while this was dangerous territory we were stepping back into, I couldn't help but be reminded the message of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (if you haven't seen the movie, spoilers ahead, so be forewarned.)

Joel and Clementine fall in love, fall out of love, erase their memories so they can move on, meet again, fall in love again, discover they've had their memories erased because their relationship didn't work, but they decide to go ahead with the relationship again anyway...knowing it won't work.


Why do they do this? Because that connection, those memories, those times where it's just that amazing and cannot happen with anyone else...those are worth the terrible, painful emotions that often accompany such bliss.

As I dropped her off at home, she told me she had my Christmas present that she had been holding onto for me since we said goodbye. It was a framed picture of her and I for my new desk and my new job. So it would feel like home.

It will now.

I can't be sure what's going to happen in the future for us. Whether the friendship will be too hard to bear, whether it will work nice and easy, or whether we'll decide to take that leap into a full-blown relationship. I just know I'm willing to take the risk.

-Spontaneous K