Single Status

Flashback to...1 February 2010

Romantic songs and such don’t depress me like they used to, when I have been single in the past.  It’s been nearly a month since my ex and I broke up, and that’s about when I would start getting desperate for another guy, another relationship.  But now, I’m enjoying the time that I have to myself.  I also do have my fixes at contra dances with bountiful opportunities to flirt without romantic involvement.  Perhaps, this helps me to be more accepting of my single status. 

However, a month is certainly not a long enough time to deal with my dependency issues.  Eventually, I will apply what I’m learning to a relationship.  If a guy is truly interested in me and respects me, then he will be happy to spend time with me as a friend and won’t push me.  Let that friendship develop first.  I don’t want to fall into something and learn about it as I go along.  I want to ask questions first, so I can decide if a relationship is the best option for me.  Be selective.  Get to know what I want and see how it compares to what he wants and who he is.

Losing Myself

This marks the beginning of a flashback series to 2010, beginning with my first piece of writing from that year.  I will provide a brief synopsis of the background. 

I had decided in the fall of 2009 that my departure for volunteer work in Ireland in the spring would signify the end of my year and a half long polyamorous relationship.  I felt like I was going in a different direction from my boyfriend and his other girlfriend, that I had grown and learned as much as I could from them and our relationship at this point in my life, and that I could best determine the course of my life on my own. 

During that same fall, I fell in love with contra dancing.  I also met a smooth talking, passionate dancer, who seemed to have swept me off my feet, and helped to lead me astray from my intention to be on my own.  Over the course of a couple of months, we kept in contact, met at dances, and occasionally visited each other, as we lived a state apart.  On the last of these fateful visits, we kissed.  I was losing my direction and my boyfriend felt incredibly betrayed, which ended the relationship ahead of schedule.

And this is where January 2010 picks up...

Flashback to...5 January 2010

I need to rebuild my strength, and I shouldn’t worry about offending him.  I need to look out for my best interests and not let him try to mold and shape me into who he wants me to be.  Someday the future that he painted will be lovely, but not now.  If Friday’s talk doesn’t go well and I feel like he is incapable of respecting me, my wishes, my space, my struggle, then I won’t visit him on Monday. 

I’ve told him too much.  He knows that I’m weak and insecure, which he can use to his advantage.  How can one trust a womanizer with a woman, with her feelings, with her self-respect?  I don’t want to be another notch in his belt, another conquest.  Yet, he can easily use sweet words to cover that up.  I promised my ex to consider my situation and the consequences extra carefully for my sake and the sake of our friendship because he can’t stand to see me put myself through this again.

I still keep over-considering others and allowing them to do the things that make them happy, all the while thinking that it makes me happy too.  Or my stance becomes that it’s not a big deal, or that I can deal with it.  I should be certain of what I want and stand by it, and not allow myself to be persuaded.  I have to try to balance my own interests with being open-minded.  What I have had with him thus far has been way too intimate to be considered friendship.  What I need right now is a real friend, not a fling, not a relationship, not whatever this has been.  If he can’t respect and support me in this, instead of being so focused on his own interests involving me, then I don’t think we can be friends.

Later that day...

So we can’t be friends.  I kind of figured he wouldn’t be willing to compromise what he wants, so that we could be friends.  I told him that I wanted to set stricter boundaries, that I can’t deal with a “friendship” like this right now, and that the groping, caressing, cuddling, kissing is confusing.  I was worried about leading him on, but I was led on too.  He sees where I stand as being unwilling to compromise and wanting to restrict him.  It was easy for him to drop me, so I guess my friendship wasn’t worth that much to him. 

But, I stuck up for myself.  I did what I wanted, what I needed.  I can’t please everyone, and it’s not my responsibility to keep everyone happy.  He deleted my number and severed our Facebook friendship immediately, yet insisted on continuing the conversation via impersonal texting.  This was from the guy, who allegedly prefers to discuss struggles in person, instead of over the phone. 

In addition, he wants to keep me away from contra dancing in Greenfield.  He has claimed this space as his own and doesn’t want to see me there.  I don’t want to give in and let him control what I do.  He contends that by not going to the contra dances, which he is at, I am respecting his boundaries.  That’s just ludicrous.  He’s spiteful because I won’t allow him to do whatever he wants.  I can certainly respect his boundaries, but he is obviously unable to respect mine.  Even after all that talk about not abandoning me, he did anyways; unwilling to try, work harder, compromise.  He would only stick with me as long as it was convenient and advantageous for him. 

I’m fortunate to have gotten out of whatever this was now, before I really lost myself. 

Backtracking

I used to just go for it when guys made flirtatious advances, like when I was at a music festival in Ireland.  The guy I had just danced with asked for a peck on the cheek, but instead, turned his head for a full blown kiss on the lips, which I permitted, and reveled in the attention.

But last night at the contra dance, when a friend sneaked a kiss, I did not reciprocate.  I hadn’t even been prepared to dodge it, as I had become accustomed to doing whenever he attended dances.  And I was upset that the boundary of flirtation had been crossed, which I had laid out and started to explain the rationale of via online chat with him.  Did he not respect me and my wishes, just as another former “friend” had demonstrated with similar, albeit recurrent behaviors, two years ago? 

Once we were out of the contra line, I explained to him my reasons in greater detail, which was that after having my heart obliterated in my last relationship, I am not ready to trust anyone with it, no matter how serious or not the pursuit is, for I also can’t trust myself, since I over-analyze simple gestures and fall into romance too quickly.  He understood and apologized, which I appreciated and thanked him for.  Also, I realized after the fact that I had actually said “thank you,” instead of “it’s okay,” like I usually do, which always seems like I’m just dismissing something as insignificant, to which I really did take offense. 

As we sat out a square dance, I divulged further the conditions of my past relationship, break-up, and “friendship,” why I became so angry with my ex recently and lashed out.  I felt miserable after reopening those old wounds.  I sat there thinking more on the subject, as my friend went off to dance and I munched on a cookie, which he had provided as a peace offering.  I thought back to that first waltz with my ex and how, in that instant, something just clicked.  It felt right to be in his arms, and I know that he had felt it too.  I thought about how I hadn’t loved anyone before in the way that I had love him.  It was a new feeling that was completely unnerving, but wonderful at the same time. 

Yet, as I explained to my friend, as well as in a couple of posts ago, my ex has some growing up, soul-searching, and self-exploration to do.  It’s even more upsetting that after all of this time, and all of the pain that he has caused, he still has a hold on me.

Furthermore, this new, unexpected approach to dealing with such flirtation/romance matters could either aid me in identifying and ignoring lustful whims, in favor of real and budding love, or it could cause me to become emotionally withdrawn, cold, and unfeeling.  I am uncertain as to which path I am currently on.

Scattered Thoughts

After working for a few years at the Northampton Starbucks, I dreaded the thought of moving there within a bustling city in 2008, in which running into my customers was unavoidable, in spite of the convenience of a shorter commute to work and my social life.  But now, on the bus ride this morning, I felt excited to return.  This time, it feels more like home, like a better fit.  Granted, it still has its problems, but the city seems to make greater strides towards progressivism and boasts far more local and independent businesses than my chain store dominated home town of West Springfield.  It certainly has a lot to do with the citizens of Northampton, their mentalities, values, and interests.  There’s also a greater feeling of community, or at least sub-communities that are easily accessible.  Again, much of it may be an illusion, my rosy picture of how I remember the city.  I’m reminded of it during my travels, as I identify communities with a similar feel for me, like Salt Spring Island and Bend, Oregon.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be settled, to have my life organized, and to be an integrated part of a community.  That’s the real allure: community.  Communities have been established during my internships, but seem to be not meant to last.  When permanently settled, one can get involved in all of the organizations and volunteer activities that one desires, making long-term connections, seeing struggles through, and being a part of the successes.  I am fortunate to be continuously welcomed back into the contra community, though I feel that it might be different and even more worthwhile if I had greater involvement.  It seems like it might be easier to live out life in one place, where one’s support, love, comforts, and familiarities all exist.

Sometimes, I consider this, but I soon shake myself from this reverie and remember that this is not what I seek.  Maybe someday, but not right now.  There are still many places to travel, causes to contribute to, adventures to be experienced.  I can’t have two very different lives or aspects of these lives existing at the same time.  It’s just not possible, so I am forced to prioritize and keep my mind set in the direction of my goals.

By being bitter, I am still playing the victim, four months following the break-up, and I have not truly let go.  I feel as if I have been boasting my capability of holding a grudge for this long.  If I’m bitter, how can I truly be happy for him or supportive of what he wants for himself?  If I haven’t let go, then am I expecting something in return, some sort of amends?  If this is true, then how can I really say that I loved him, since I am not acting as such now and living up to my own ideals of what love is.  I am still letting his past actions affect me and control my happiness, for how can I be truly happy with such a burden to bear?  These questions make me reconsider my behavior.  For awhile, it was acceptable, or at least understandable, but there comes a time, when I need to toughen up, move on, and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Contra Dancing and Other Fun in Victoria

Coincidentally, on my birthday, there was also a contra dance taking place in Victoria, which was a huge deal, as dances only occur once a month, instead of weekly like they do back home.  I have really been missing my weekly contra dancing fix.  Once, I tried tango here, but it was not worth the fifteen dollars.  The movements are very precise and in time to the music, and it seems that one needs a good grasp on the basics, before beginning to actually dance.  I had no patience for this and have not been back since.  With contra, you can just jump in, people offer guidance as you go, and it is more about having fun than getting the moves right. 

Anyways, I made a day trip of Victoria, getting dropped off in town by another intern to catch the Salt Spring Island transit over to Fulford Harbor, which was quite a bit cheaper than paying for gas.  On the crossing to Schwartz Bay in Sidney, I noticed dark fins in the distance ducking and resurfacing in the water.  After having been pointed out to me a handful of times while on Sherkin Island, I determined that they must be porpoises, and they are often about the Gulf Islands at this time of year, as are the whales. 

The express bus takes one hour to drive from Sidney to downtown Victoria, but I was in no hurry with plenty of time before the dance that evening and a three o’clock check-in time at the hostel.  I always seem to panic on public transit, since I have no idea where I am going or how a city is organized.  I do not feel like I have a good view of things and am unable to determine for myself where I am and where I need to go.  I generally prefer to walk so that I can take in everything and feel like I have more control over my travels.  However, I made it into downtown without a problem, quickly located the hostel, and then headed straight for the Polish deli/restaurant that one of the staff members had recommended to me.  It was some of the best Polish food that I have had, including beet based borscht, a thick piece of grilled kielbasa, and delicate pierogies with a variety of fillings.  I determined that I need to keep working on my own pierogies, so that maybe I can get them to taste like the restaurant’s, Cook N' Pan, which is located on Cook Street. 

I wandered around for a bit, all the way down to docks, where the ferries from the United States come in, which was loaded with tourists on holidays and weekend getaways.  I was getting tired of carrying my backpack, which I may have over packed for a single overnight, so I hiked back towards the hostel and bought a latte at Serious Coffee, which was not terribly enjoyable, as the espresso was quite bitter. 

I was glad to find that reserving beds for myself and two other interns, who would join me later, worked out because it was such a challenge trying to understand the owner on the phone with her quick and quiet speech, further complicated by a thick Asian accent.  In person, it was not much easier to understand her, but she seemed sweet and interested in my travels.  The Turtle Hostel seemed a bit quirky, but it was cozy with all of the essentials.  I have been told that it can get quite loud there with the neighbors partying, but the I was tired enough that night to not notice. 

I unloaded a bit and headed for Beacon Hill Park, which the Cook N' Pan employee had recommended.  I meandered around the ponds, observing waterfowl, people, and vegetation.  There was a wedding party doing a photoshoot by one pond and on a little stone bridge nearby.  I found one tree whose trunk gradually inclines over the pond, creating a cozy napping spot, and shielded from the walkway by some bushes.  There was another grove of large, distorted trees, which were quite enjoyable to rest on and watch the world go by. 

After exiting the park, I came upon a bookstore, and inquired about coffee shops as I checked out, since evening seemed to be closing time for several businesses.  I was referred to Habit on the corner of Blanshard and Johnson Streets for their amazing hot chocolates and mochas.  I found a little booth tucked away in the corner, where I sipped an absolutely delicious hot cocoa, complete with chocolate shavings on top of the foamy milk, and read my book. 

I decided to try walking to the dance, after I had Google mapped it again and found out that it was only half an hour walk away from the hostel.  That did not sound too bad and I figured that I could check out the neighborhood on the way to determine if it might be safe enough to walk back through that night.  I vaguely remembered a back way that Google had come up with, including lots of turns onto various streets.  I quickly became lost and asked for directions.  Coincidentally, the people who I first encountered were visiting from Philadelphia and needed to refer to the mother, who they and their children were staying with, as she was well acquainted with Victoria.  However, she did not know the street that I was looking for quite so well and brought out a map, which she lent to me, in case I became lost again. 

I located the church, at which the dance was to be held, but the parking lot looked a bit deserted.  Fortunately, as I approached the street corner, there were more cars parked along the roadside and in a lot for the community center behind the church.  I could already feel myself getting giddy with excitement.  There were only two small lines, maybe twenty or twenty-five people total.  It took a bit to relax and get back into the rhythm and flow of contra, but I was so happy to just be there and just dance!  I also discovered that I had not yet lost my spinning tolerance, after not having danced and twirled for about a month and a half, because the change is usually quick and drastic.  Although, it did probably help that many of the guys there did not engage in fancy spin tricks or lots of them.  Once some of them figured out that they could twirl me, they did, which was good fun.  I talked to some people about the contra scene back home, and after the dance, I e-mailed all of the links that I could possibly think of for dances for a guy originally from Rhode Island and interested in checking out the dance scene back home, which apparently was not as prevalent almost a decade ago.  I asked a couple of people if they knew of anyone heading into downtown, but no such luck.  On my way, all of the houses that I passed looked well maintained with manicured, green lawns, so I decided that I would be safe walking through a rich, suburban neighborhood at night.  

I was quite energized after dancing and did not fall asleep for some time, even after the long walk back to the hostel.  The other interns had gone out to some clubs, so I did not meet up with them until we all awoke the next morning.  We ate breakfast at Floyd’s Diner, which was affordable with quality ingredients and large portions.  Soon after, it was time to start catching transport back to the island for work that afternoon.  I still find it challenging to get back into work after having a day off.  It never seems like enough time to do all that I want to do, to be active, relax, and take care of household chores.  It is so nice to just do what you want with your time.

Appreciating the Little Things

I’m realizing that my past few entries have been rather negative, as I hope and wait to get away and start living life the way I would like to again.  Yet, my time here at home has not been totally horrible.  It’s just easier to zone in on the negative or to get caught up in the daily grind, and completely overlook the people and things that I have in my life right now that make it worthwhile.  Recently, I received a bit of a wake up call to how short life really is, how it can change so quickly, unexpectedly, which refamiliarized me with the importance of living life in the moment and appreciating what I have.  All too often, I find myself anticipating something, just to be looking forward to something else in the midst of the first something.  I don’t want to go through life never really being happy or satisfied because I’m so intent on getting to that next step. 

Other than trying to get myself back into the habit of pursuing constant improvement to ideally better myself as a person, I’ve mostly just been working and trying to make good use of my time.  Oftentimes, there don’t seem to be enough hours in the day! 

At my current job, I’m supposed to get a second oven, which I’m more hopeful about since the cooling racks that I was promised when I started over a month ago were finally delivered.  Ideally, this would help to cut down on the time that I spend baking and create more manageable work hours. 

I’m still getting out every weekend for contra dancing and loving every minute of it!  I’ve also been trying to get more involved in the wildlife rehabilitation community through my volunteer work and attending meetings for the state’s wildlife organization.