Sometimes, I forget that other people aren’t in fast forward.
I’m a Gemini. I think I might have mentioned that a time or three. I’m also an ENFP according to the Meyers-Brigg personality thingy. And I’m also dealing with some of my own personal hangups with how I’ve been raised to show emotion.
In a nutshell, relationships are weird for me. I don’t understand them, but I can tell where they’re going and what the next step is, usually before the other person.
As a result, I move in fast forward.
In almost all cases, this ends in disaster. I see the potential for a relationship, as in where it could go and I pounce, confident in the knowledge that all things are going to be amazingly great! Or, alternatively, I see that things are going close to nowhere, and I tend to take advantage of certain things, trying to get the most out of what little time we have left.
Neither is healthy. There was a time, fairly recently, I thought I was seeing the truth of things and moving at the right pace, but I’m seeing that I was very wrong.
For one thing, I allowed myself to get wrapped up in how good things felt! And quit listening to the words that were being said.
The way to judge most men is by their actions. Occasionally, however, a person’s actions aren’t reflective of what’s going on inside of them. I should’ve recognized this, seeing as many of my own relationships have ended with me acting the opposite of how I felt because I was trying to salvage something unsalvageable.
Also, I think there was a bit of that happening in this situation as well. I was acting how I thought I was supposed to act based on his actions, which, as we just discussed, didn’t match his words.
And based on both our actions, things were full steam ahead! Wild abandon! Quickly headed down a road that secretly terrifies me (or not so secretly, depending on who you ask). We were spending an abnormally large amount of time together, given the short amount of time we’d known each other, and other people who observed us would comment to me how great we seemed together. All feeding into my own personal idea of what was happening.
I think it helped that there were forced moments of absence. The large amount of time together didn’t seem so abnormal because we were making up for the large stretches of time we wouldn’t see each other. During those absences, there were romantic/sexy chats and texts that felt so amazingly fairy tale perfect.
The problem with fairy tale romances is that they are rarely perfect and never true. After all, Snow White’s romance was completely based on the fact that a guy was willing to make out with a corpse… He didn’t know it would bring her back to life. So what does that say about him, exactly? Or, for goodness sake, what does that say about her for staying with the necrophile?! Who we choose to be with is a direct reflection of our own self-worth…
And I thought my love life was complicated.
Back to the point.
I was rushing things, and didn’t realize it. I was seeing how great things appeared, and didn’t understand when things changed what I was doing wrong…
And maybe I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but the constant feeling of me being the problem became a problem. I started getting my feelings hurt because I felt like I was suddenly not receiving back any of the emotional stuff I was sending out.
And you know what? I still don’t think I was getting back what I was putting in, but it was because I was viewing the earlier romance for something it wasn’t.
In the beginning, I was the shiny new toy. And so was he. He was the shiny new toy that I wanted and didn’t get to play with as much as I liked. I don’t know what was going through his mind. Never will. But for me, I wanted to do what I usually do with a new toy: I wanted to find out how he worked and what he could do. What kind of fun could we have? And what kind of mischief could we get into?
It was too intense. But for a while, it worked, because, like I said, there were huge stretches of empty space, where he wasn’t there. Our worlds would collide for a brief time, and be filled with getting to know each other, inside and out, and then he’d be gone again.
It was like a romance inside a Chronosynclastic Infundibulum. Thank you Kurt Vonnegut Jr. for the perfect explanation! In Vonnegut’s Sirens of Titan, a character gets stuck in a
Chronosynclastic Infundibulum spacey thing, and when the Earth falls into it’s path, he exists on the planet until the Earth leaves it’s path. So for 1 hour every 59 days, he exists on Earth. It also seems to be painful when the Earth leaves the path. If memory serves, he leaves in something like Saint Elmo’s fire.
This romance was like that. When we were in each other’s orbits, we were really really in each other’s orbits, occupying the same space, seeing everything about each other, but it couldn’t last. The separation was painful, but, as the old adage says, “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and it became a fairy tale that would end in a painful way. At least for me.
At least until I realized what was going on.
The lesson here: Learn to slow down! Don’t be in a hurry to know the other person so much. There is time. Because if you act as if there isn’t time, there won’t be.
And as a bonus, I just found out that there’s a song by the same name as this post… And it came out the year I was born! And, almost as if it were fate, the lyrics fit…somewhat. So I’m sharing it for you:
*Cover Image: Love in the Fast Lane by Liz Angeles