The End of the Beginning of the End.

Well, things have calmed down on all fronts these days. Except for the fact that I’m on my second of four interviews for a new job! Aside from that, however…

Is it too stupid of me to say that the flame has died out with Firefighter? (Clearly, yes, that was stupid.) Anyway. He did his job… HE managed to put it out. Nevertheless, I’m happy about it. Relieved. It hurt a little, I won’t deny that. I don’t even really know what happened, but he managed to be so elusive that I had enough time to myself to realize how monstrous the mistake I almost made was. I was actually re-evaluating my relationship with Boy; considering ending it, for a new, exciting fling with Firefighter. A chivalrous and gorgeous, yet guarded and imperfect man... A man who, by the way, saw me out to dinner with Boy and his parents a few weeks ago. That’s when things got weird.

He knew all about Boy (well, a little about Boy, maybe not all. However, he knew of his existence.) I still can’t help but feel terrible though, when I remember the look on his face when we walked by his table on our way out. He saw me, his face lit up, his eyes brightened, he stood to kiss my cheek… and saw Boy. He sat back down. Defeated. Deflated. Nodded hello, asked how I was, and immediately turned back to his conversation with friends. Boy has no idea about Firefighter… but he was upset by the exchange, nonetheless. He had to have sensed something, but it was never really discussed; more or less just dismissed.

It’s weird. The last time I saw Firefighter, before dinner with Boy and his parents, we had drinks and spent hours talking, laughing, catching up. This was a week before dinner with Boy and fam. He reavealed things about himself that no one else knows; we laughed over stories of college, spoke seriously over ambitions and hopes. He told me how much he wanted to be with me; that he knew what he wanted in life, and that he wasn’t going to beat around the bush anymore. He wanted me. He knew from the night we met, he said. I melted; I wanted him too. And then you know what? I didn’t hear from him again after that night, at all. Not until he saw me with Boy at dinner a week later. He texted me and wanted to know what was going on, and I responded that he was confusing the hell out of me… that he couldn’t just say what he said to me and then disappear… and that maybe I was focusing my efforts on the wrong man, that I was maybe making a big mistake and should be trying to fix, rather than replace, what was broken? No response.

A few nights after that, Firefighter asked me to meet his family. What?! I know. They were in town, and he wanted me to meet them for after-dinner drinks. Had I not been with Boy, I just might have, but we were at a Christmas party. And had he not completely confused the shit out of me, that is. I didn’t hear from him for another few days after telling him that meeting his family wasn’t an option for me right now. Fast forward to New Year’s Day. He asked me to meet him and four of his friends to watch football, and I agreed. (BTW: The things that were/are happening with Boy, at this point, are worthy of a completely different post. Let’s just say that I needed to get out of the house, and Firefighter’s invitation was exactly the break I was looking for.) Now, as I was pulling into the sports bar, I texted Firefighter to ask where they were sitting. (Big place – don’t you hate walking into places like that and looking like an ass, craning your neck looking for someone while everyone stares at the solo chick in the sports bar? I do.) Anyway. He immediately replied,

“Sorry, but we’re just getting ready to leave.”

Whoa, what? I didn’t have a chance to reply before he sent another,

“I think I’m going to head back to [hometown] to spend the day with my family.”

Whoa, again.

“I’m sorry, another time?”

Whoa. Fucking whoa.

I replied, “Not a problem at all… drive safely.”

And that’s it. The last contact we’ve had.

I’m not sad… but, well, I guess maybe I am, a little. I’m glad too though, that it’s over. It was getting to the point that I lied to Boy almost daily, even about going to happy hour or the mall or the gym. I was making excuses to see Firefighter, getting caught up in my lies and having to backtrack and retrace and try and remember what I had said or “who” I had been with and where and why. It was awful. Things aren’t exactly great with Boy, but as I said, that’s another post. The point, and the good news, is that they are over with Firefighter. Over.

Happy Hanukkah

On this day every year, on the eve of Hanukkah, I've either personally given or mailed a card and gift to my Jewlove for as long as I've known him. He really is just that. My Jewish love. Formerly loveR. But now just my love. A gorgeous boy; a proud man; a bittersweet memory. Why? Well... I'm Christian. He's Jewish. That's it. For a whole year, while I was living in the city, we "dated". Not really, though. Why? Well, I'm Christian. He's Jewish. I guess you could say that it was always a way of getting off the hook if I wanted to go on a date with someone else, or sleep with someone else, or give my phone number to someone else. I guess you could say it was his way of doing the same. I mean, technically, he wasn't my boyfriend. I wasn't his girlfriend. I loved him with an intense passion, but we were not committed to each other. We couldn't be, so we just weren't.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be his girl, his everything... and lying if I said that I often needed to be "let off the hook"; I wanted to be with him so badly that my heart still hurts to think about it. I never really messed around during my time with him... I accidentally fell in love with him instead. I guess you could even say that I practically lived with him. Now... I miss him. But I've always missed him, even when he was holding me in his arms.

At first, I would casually bring it up... "Why can't we just try it and see where it goes?" He would always respond that no matter how much we felt for each other; no matter what happened, I'd never be Jewish, and nothing would change that. Even if I converted - I'd still never be "truly" Jewish, and he couldn't marry someone who wasn't. Not that I wanted to convert, no. I'm a proud Christian, and it's just not that easy to change your life and beliefs. After a while, and after many conversations, discussions, and arguments about our faith and religious beliefs, I just accepted that no matter how deeply we immersed ourselves into our delusional world, I'd never have what I wanted from him in reality. I could never, in return, give him my heart, either. It was like the white religious elephant in the center of our studio apartment that no one would talk about, but whose shit we had to clean up every day.

We let ourselves get wrapped up in each other for over a year before it finally broke my heart enough for me to walk away. In that year though, he became my best friend. He introduced me to a culture that I never would have known, or ever would have cared to know. He became my personal tour guide in the greatest city in the world and became part of some of the most amazing memories that I'll have in this life. He helped me become a person that I never knew I was capable of being: he showed me how to stand up for my beliefs and fight for what I wanted. He showed me that even if I didn't get what I was fighting for - the battle always made me stronger. He taught me to be tough. To laugh at myself. To stand up for myself. To respect myself. He'll never know... but he'll always have a piece of my heart.

He's with a nice Jewish girl now (whose mother, I'm sure, is so proud... he's a doctor), and I'm really happy for him. She's pretty cool too, and although doesn't know the half of our story, has accepted our friendship very well. I have yet to meet her, although he tells me that if I'm up for a long plane trip to Israel, I'm the first on his list of wedding guests... should it get that far, of course. Did I mention he's somewhat of a player? A looker, that Jew... Oy.

Anyway... Hanukkah has me feeling a little nostalgic this year, and I definitely miss him more during the Jewish holidays. I'm so glad to have had him in my life, and wouldn't trade a single minute of the hell or heartache that being his shiksa entailed.

And Then There Were Two...

I'm proud of myself... I've gone over two weeks without seeing the Firefighter. I'm also not so proud. I miss him. I've talked or tm'd him almost every day. He's almost all I can think about, and I've wanted to see him the whole time. But I've found ways to be "busy"... I know he's starting to get impatient, and I'm bracing myself for when the time comes that he's not going to put up with my "issues" anymore.

Did I mention that I told him about the Boy? Yeah. Even worse, I told him that I wasn't going to walk away. From "this". From our thing. Regardless of Boy. He told me that he wouldn't either, because he feels like it's something more than a casual meeting of two people who happen to be perfect for each other. He feels like it has happened for a reason - and so do I. So he told me that he'd wait for me until I was ready. Ready for what?! To leave Boy? How can I tell him that I won't, ever? He has me on this pedestal, like I'm actually worth waiting for... and I don't get it. I don't understand why he isn't moving on, why he isn't out being a single guy, looking, having fun, doing what he should be doing. I know he told me he would wait... but I know that even he, being all "devoted" and whatnot, won't wait forever. I'm dreading the moment when I find out that he actually has met someone who can give him what he's "waiting" for.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Things with Boy are so up and down these days. Sometimes I'm just so full of love for him that I can't stand it; I can't stand how corny I feel and how passionately I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him. I found him reading about the 4 C's online the other day! It scared me, excited me, made me happy, sad, and nervous. How can a girl with a Boy and a Firefighter be ready for that level of commitment?! I mean, I'm not, right? I especially don't think so for the other simple reason that I can go from loving him this deeply to almost loathing him as much, in a very, very, ridiculously short period of time. I don't know if this is because I know I have something waiting for me if I totally push him away? I mean... I get to levels of "bitch" that are incomprehensible... I don't know how he still wants to put up with the drama that I sometimes create. It's awful for him, and it's awful that I know I'm being so wretched. Yet I can't apologize for anything... and I find ways to justify everything. It's always his fault... always. Even when it's not.

I feel like things between us are so different. I compare us now to the "we" we used to be a year ago, and it's like two completely different people. A different couple entirely. Last year, when we put the tree up, for example: we lit my entire place up with candlelight, played Christmas music, had ridiculous amounts of wine, and focused on nothing but the tree, the decor, and each other. We ended the night with a fire in the fireplace and made love right there on the floor. This year, I had to entice him with Irish coffee to even leave our townhouse to go out and shop for Christmas lights with me, and when we came home, instead of candlelight, laughter and Christmas music as I had anticipated, it was a football game and him on his laptop and cell phone doing the fantasy football thing. I bought wine and eggnog, rented Christmas movies, had Christmas music ready, made chili and sweet bread... and nothing. Tree up. Lights up. The end. I practically put the tree up myself. I had this vision (that I'd even shared with him, to let him know how much I was looking forward to our "tradition") of another perfect weekend holed up all warm and cozy at home, getting ready for our first Christmas together in our new home... and nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I have to get my head straight, that's all I know. The holidays have never, ever had a history of improving sanity, so this is bound to be one hell of a season. I love Boy in an almost dangerous way, but am I still in love? I love his family - this is for sure. I'm so entangled in them; I'm one of them - how could I even begin to imagine life without them? Or Boy? What would my life be like without him? Hot tears immediately sting my eyes when I begin to imagine it. Yet, what would life be like with FF? He wants me to meet his family. To go horseback riding with him. To see his hometown. To bond with his sisters. To spend time with his friends. For me to be a part of his life. How do I say no to someone I'm clearly falling for? It's only been two months, and the connection that I have with him is so genuine. And he's nothing... nothing... nothing at all like Boy.

Far Too Deep

Jesus, it's only gotten worse. So much worse. I'm in so far over my head that I don't know how I could backtrack, even if I wanted to. I'm starting to wish that I'd never met Firefighter, because he's made my life so completely difficult... and worse, has brought me the happiness that I used to feel with Boy. Maybe more? I feel that at one time, there was a chance to find it again with Boy, but that now... I won't. I'm so wrapped up in FF that I'm not giving my real relationship with Boy the attention and serious effort that it deserves. I feel myself letting go... But I can't stop thinking about him. About FF... I wait on edge to hear from him during the day, take every opportunity to see him when I can at night. He consumes my every thought. I desire him. I want to kiss him until I can't breathe; I want to press my body against his and dig my fingernails into his back; I want to feel him and taste him and run my hands along his rock-solid body. I want him to shove me against the wall and kiss me like it's our first and last time. And he still doesn't know about Boy. I know that the only thing to do is break it off - I KNOW that it's the only answer, and I know that I'll never, ever leave Boy. But why am I finding it so heartbreaking to let go of FF? This is a man that I don't want to lose... He's too good to let go of... how do I do this? I'm terrified that I won't walk away, and that I'll only fall deeper into whatever this is.

Something

It's something now; it's officially something.

I stayed late at the office on Friday night, so I ended up not going out for cocktails with my girlfriends as I had planned. Usually, I wouldn't care much, but I was really disappointed on Friday... why? Because I knew that somehow, being out with my girls and having cocktails would've turned into being out with Firefighter. Or being somewhere with him. Anywhere... I didn't care, I just knew that I wanted to see him, and knew that I wouldn't once I realized I had to work late into the night.

I seriously contemplated meeting him out for extremely late-night drinks, but in my mind and heart, I knew I just couldn't do that to the Boy. My conscience tells me that there's something more 'wrong' about spending time with Firefighter in the night... or something. So I met him on Saturday morning for coffee instead. My thoughts were that daylight + sober = me coming to my senses, but I was wrong. It only made things worse. Our "quick" coffee date turned into a couple of hours that flew by like minutes.... and officially confirmed that this is not a momentary, fleeting crush that'll just fade away. I'm involved in something with Firefighter. And I want it. I like it; I like him; I like everything about what's happening. I hate lying. I hate that I'm a person I never thought I'd be; I'm someone I hate. But it's happening, and I don't know how to walk away now. I don't want to. I like Firefighter. But... I love Boy.

A New Flame...

I didn’t mean for it to happen, but last night… it did. God, who am I? I’m the girl that cheats on her boyfriend?! I’m not like that… what was I thinking? And now what? Firefighter doesn’t even know that I have a boyfriend. And I like Firefighter. Like him a lot. And Firefighter likes me back. A lot. Fuck.

I met him on Saturday. And yes, this is the weekend that the Boy and I went back to our crazy college town to get crazy college drunk and have crazy college fun. And we sure did. Separately. I don’t even want to go into that. I’ll just say that Boy got so drunk, that when I walked into the bar to meet up with him, he didn’t even recognize me. In fact, he looked up, I waved, and he sloppily, drunkenly turned back to the random girl that was very interested in whatever he was saying that was sooooooo funny. And boy, was he having a good time saying it. We haven’t had a lot to say to each other since then.

Anyway. I left. I wasn’t having any of that, and my wonderful girls were just what I needed to take my mind off the bullshit. So they dragged me to like, THE wildest bar I’ve ever been to, and the next thing I know, I’m taking shot after shot with this gorgeous guy who’s a fireman and omigod lives in my town. What?! I know. Things got blurry, he got flirty, we started getting playful, telling stories, laughing, touching…I got shitfaced… and somewhere, somehow, fuck, I developed a serious CRUSH. And then I gave Firefighter my phone number. What the F was I thinking? I don’t do that. I have a boyfriend. That I live with. That I love. (I literally just muttered “What the fuck?” under my breath and scratched my head, and furrowed my eyebrows and everything.)

So since Saturday, we’ve had a lot of very playful, flirty, fun, funny text-offs, and he’s adorable. I like him. And last night, I went to happy hour with my girlfriends and had too many glasses of wine. And then we decided to go to another bar, and take a few shots, of course. And then, what the hell? Why not? I called Firefighter. And then he showed up.

Shit. He is so much more beautiful than I remember. And he dresses so well. And he smells so good. And he’s so sweet. And mysterious. And gentlemanly. And he opens doors. And gaaaaaah. So I decided that of course it was a good idea to go to another bar. Just us. Just Firefighter and me. And that another stellar idea was that at the end of the night, when he leaned over to kiss that spot at the corner my mouth, to not turn away. And I let his hands, that were gently holding mine, find their way to my hair and the back of my neck, and I let him pull me close and overwhelm me in a kiss that at this very second, leaves me breathless and shaky and oh god wanting more...

But that was it. It was a very deep, very passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that leaves you gasping for air. But that was it. But still. It was a kiss. A very real kiss. A kiss that I can’t take back and and don't want to take back and can’t stop thinking about and that I want to have again. But, what the hell, what am I thinking? Who is this person I’ve suddenly turned into??? I don’t even kiss on the first date – what was I thinking, kissing on the first “have a few drinks”, while fucking cheating no less?!

He just sent me a text message that said, “You amazed me last night, and you took my breath away. Even today, I’m breathless. Who are you?” Now what am I supposed to do?

Feelin' Good

Last night (as if the Gods of "let's push her to the limit" had decided to play a sick, poorly-timed joke), Boy told me that he received an e-mail from the very ex-gf that I spoke of yesterday. He non-chalantly made it clear that he was one of about 75 people that were on this mass e-mail, and that it was simply to share a really wild story about something that happened yesterday in the small town she and her family had just moved to. (Normally, he probably wouldn't have shared in order to keep the peace, but this town is a quiet little town in the state that we both grew up in.) As I sat there in bed, listening, I literally bit my tongue so as not to say anything. I nodded, ooh'ed and aah'ed at the craziness of the story... and then I let it go. I searched the covers for our remote, turned on the TV, and we resumed our ritualistic 15 minutes of bedtime ESPN and talking shit about each other's fantasy football teams. With the exception of his "Last One Standing" fight-scene, kicking, punching dreams, I slept like a rock.

This weekend, we're headed back to the city where we both attended college. We're alums of one of the most well-known football schools in the nation, and we're headed back to party and tailgate like the rockstars that all U** students are! We're going together, but Boy is meeting up with the guys and I'm meeting up with the girls... and I can not freakin' wait!!! I'm so excited to see my girlfriends, and I'm really excited for him to get to see his friends too. The best part? They're all friends now, and we're all planning to meet up at some point and spend a majority of our partying moments together. I think it's going to be a blast... and I'm looking forward to missing each other. I get a little freaky about his galavanting sometimes (his friends are W-I-L-D wild, and single, ecckkhhh), so please cross all of your virtual fingers that my completely un-warranted, un-called for, un-cool jealousy stays in check...