possessive and needy, and/or b) I could be setting myself up for yet another heartbreak. The problem with finding a great guy through such serendipitous occurrences, like the ones that Mr. Mahn and I have had, is that there is a perpetual feeling that maybe it really is too good to be true, or worse, that no matter what I do, everything between us is still up to chance. At times like these, I cannot help but open up The Ex-Files to try to figure out what I kept doing wrong in my previous affairs.Retelling my story, in its full context, does not usually bode well. I end up either bawling my eyes out, or worse brooding in a corner blasting Death Cab’s Transatlanticism and/or Athlete’s Tourist. It is vile, it is trite, it is melodramatic, and yet I go down that road every so often. Incidentally, one song in particular came into light this weekend, and until then I had not actually listened to the lyrics. The song is called Tiny Vessels and basically tells the story of meaningless, ‘romantic’ encounters. The chorus is what truly resonated with me, Yeah, you are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me. Moreover, this weekend, this song also deeply resonated with Femme-Fatale, and left her thinking about relationships past. Listening to her fear of having lost the drive to actually pursue a relationship, or even how to have a date that does not necessarily mean sex, I found myself helpless in the advice department. I could no longer be simply sympathizing, because it was full on empathy.
The truth is that my greatest fear with Mr. Mahn is that he will actually end up being yet another anecdote, in my already long list. Is it possible that even after all of the time and emotions invested, can he still end up being yet another one of the men that have simply come and gone? Nearly every other man that has come and gone comes back to tell me that I was a great guy and so on. Yet, such proclamations are bitter-sweet because despite how ‘great’ I may have been, I cannot help but feel that I still was not enough. It would be more emotionally satisfying to say that all the guys were jerks, or it was the wrong time; however, I am still the common denominator underneath ALL of it. Yes, they were great affairs and even meaningful at one point (at least, for me they were), but finding that exclamations of love and appreciation were likely empty has only left me as empty as a tiny vessel. (And no, this is no time to say that the hollower you are now, the more happiness you will be able to carry later.)
I cannot help but think that even if Mr. Mahn is simply an exciting summer fling, as had been assumed from the very beginning, he has upped the ante by consistently tearing down my guards and making me feel that it may be worth it to just let him in – even if it is not what he is trying to do. Is it really fair of me to expect more from him? More importantly, at this very moment, am I perhaps self-sabotaging by over-thinking this? Am I so desperate for a relationship that I fail to see how good it is right now with Mr. Mahn? Am I missing a great time with him now because I am chasing after the possibility of a future? Lastly, am I letting the mistakes of past men apply to him? When it comes to matters of my own heart, I am utterly clueless and unable to stand back.
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