Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Did you ever...

Did you ever have one of those moments in your life when you feel, more or less, like a cat that's just been startled and is flattening itself against a wall and is wondering whether to attack or flee?

I don't mean it literally, of course, but, right now, I kind of feel as though I have, in a moment of pure foolishness and overconfidence, managed to wander down the, well, not wrong path, but definitely not the right one either, and am trying to stop myself from going any further before it turns out to be too late for me to turn back.

It should be fairly obvious that I am talking about CWS, although, after yesterday's events, I could be talking about work as well.

Maybe that's the problem. I have taken far too many risky decisions this year, decisions which I wouldn't have thought too much about had I been five years younger, had I the capacity to deal with disappointment, or the energy to deal with risk... and more importantly, time to recover from heartache. The kind of time I don't feel I have now that I'm over 30.

It's not as if I'm terribly old; I'm certainly not much older than I was when I was 25 years old, convinced of my own invulnerability, happy enough to throw myself off cliffs without caring too much about what lay below, confident enough in my own recuperative abilities. But, and this is a big but, the older I get, the longer I take to recover from heartaches, and the more jaded and guarded I become.

I told CWS a few days ago that, if a friend of mine were in my shoes, I would tell her (but only once, because I am a good friend) that if she knew damn well she wouldn't be able to deal with his familial situation, then she shouldn't get involved with him, and if she wanted it just to be something for fun, then she ought to be sure that both sides could handle it being a fun thing. Otherwise, she shouldn't take the risk of getting involved and finding out way too late that, no, uh-no, a child is not something she can deal with, and that she should stop it while she can so that both parties won't be too hurt by it ending now. And, to be brutally honest, it's not as if she has to settle, that there will be no other men in her life, that she has to take this guy as her options are limited. These are all the things I would say to her, just to make sure she's considered all possible grounds.

More to the point, I would hate for her to get hurt, particularly seeing as she knew, even before anything happened, that this guy had a kid. Because, if she did get involved, and she decided she couldn't take it, and she ended things, wouldn't she feel stupid as she went in with eyes wide open?

Lastly, while she was busy with this guy, she would be missing out on all the other wonderful men who would be perfect for her because she wouldn't be paying anyone else any attention, and that would just be tragic because the guy who's truly meant for her, who doesn't come with any physical baggage, would just end up walking straight by her and she wouldn't even know it.

None of this scared him off. On the contrary, he appreciated it greatly. Of course, he said he disagreed, and that there was no harm done in giving it a try if his friend were in his shoes.

And, shortly after telling me this, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

I stiffened up completely. I'm sure he could tell as he was holding me in his arms. After seeing my shocked expression and speechless state, he told me to forget he asked and that he'd ask me at a later date.

First of all, I was all, did you not hear anything I just said?

Second of all, what am I doing and how did I get here? How did I get to the point where an absolutely wonderful man - one whom I have described as being a great combination of the kind of guy I want and the kind of guy who'd be good for me - wants me to go out with him, and, yet, I don't? It's not that I don't feel the same way. I do, albeit probably to a lesser extent because I am consciously holding back, but, if he didn't have a child, I suspect I would have fallen a long time ago.

So, after a wonderful weekend together where I tried my best to ignore him and even flirted with other men right in front of him only to get completely s***faced and end up snogging him repeatedly while on the dance floor, in front of a few people I know, I have now asked for a break. I have seen him several times a week since he got back to the UK and we have been chatting every day and I just think I need some space just to breathe and think things over, to see how things are like when he's not there, so that I don't fall any deeper and there's still time to extract myself from this mess while I can.

I wasn't completely honest with him when I said I wanted a week off, I realise. I told him it was just because I thought we'd been seeing each other too often and that I would like to catch up with my friends and, well, just catch up on some much-needed rest. That was the truth, but, today, I've realised it's also my week to decide. And it's hard. I don't often meet men who are this nice, gentlemanly, fun, great to talk to and who can still turn me on.

The only catch is... a bloody big one though.

What am I going to do? Hit Ctrl+Z on this part of my life?

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