04 September, 2012

Love Hurts

I really fell for Brett. Really.
Like, yesterday.

I was at my parents' for a Labor Day cookout, and my phone rang. I was in the living room, but my phone was in the kitchen, and as I rushed in there I tripped over my dad's footstool and stumbled. I tried to right myself, but...
(image: plungede.org)

You know, this exact thing happened the first time I did a Polar Bear Plunge: You rush headlong at the surf, and as soon as you get to the point where you are no longer picking up your feet higher than the water, the water slows your feet, but your body continues with its original momentum. Next thing you know, you're on your knees rolling in the 40* surf.

...yeah. That, except this time "the surf" was a footstool. Dudes, I wish I had this on video. It had to be grand. As my feet tried to catch up to my body, I may or may not have been flailing my arms like a cartoon character running off a cliff. I saw my life flash before my eyes, but not the past, just the next few seconds: In an instant I saw exactly how this would end, and I was right. But not on the carpeted living room. No. In my few flailing steps from the footstool, I had crossed into the kitchen area. I bounced off my mom's gorgeous, Brazilian cherry-wood floor. Well, not bounced exactly. I left a skidmark. It was pretty gross. Back in the kitchen after cleaning up my oozey knee in the bathroom, I noticed a streak on the gorgeous Brazilian cherry-wood about an inch wide and two-and-a-half feet long. I asked Mom if that was from me and she laughed and said, "It must be. I just did the floors this morning." (Funny, Mom.)

EEWWW! Dudes, there were bits and pieces of my skin all along this trail. My skin belongs on me, not on the floor! Granted, it's not like my leg was lying next to me at an obscene angle, but yuck. (That's a link to Jamie R. Hawkins' debut post. Read it. It's pretty detailed.)

But I didn't notice the track I left until later. Initially, I just glanced down and saw that yes, there was loose skin and blood on my knee, and then attended to the phone. It was Brett. Of course I had to answer with "I really fell for you, Brett!" hahaha

Now Brett, fully aware that I fell for him some time ago, was clearly trying to sort that out. After a brief, confused-sounding chuckle, he must have decided that the logic was beyond him, and said, "Um...what?"

Yeah, it's a lame pun, but how often does the opportunity come to show off battle scars from the game of love?
(just for those of you tracking the jigsaw pieces of a total image of me.)
Seriously, Brett's right. I tumbled for him long ago. (Starting in March, I figure.)
...feeling lost? I added a page about our "Saga" above.

I know a lot of you have enjoyed watching this relationship develop. Believe me, it has been unexpected for me. Gloriously unexpected. Nothing about us is "normal". THANK GOD! Normal means dating.

I'm not huge on the whole dating scene. A couple years ago I made a conscious decision that it wasn't worth my time anymore. Too phony. What is a date? Two people going out to do (usually) something in a manufactured setting, and trying to impress each other. Occasionally I've stuck it out long enough to try to get beyond the "impress each other" phase, but frankly, if I see a red flag, I'm gone. What's the point? I'm comfortable on my own; I don't require romance, but if I'm going through the agony of dating, isn't it subconsciously with the hope expectation that there is a deeper relationship coming? If I see a red flag and know it's something I can't deal with, why keep wasting both our time?

Extreme? I don't think so.

I've never understood women who love a man "except". "He'd be perfect if only..." "I love him except for..." Yeah, I had a friend who was with the man who perfectly complemented her in every way...but he cheated on her. Repeatedly. Dude. RED FLAG! I'm not looking for a project. If I see a red flag, that is my exit sign.

(image: ktvn.com)

Brett and I have actually talked about red flags. ...apparently our openness to discuss whether or not we have any direct issues with each other is weird.

We've been asked by our friends and family about any red flags we may have noticed.
We've asked each other what kinds of things we might not yet know about each other (living habits, etc.) that could become a red flag down the road.

...My teenage niece said it would be my genetic necessity to be right. Guess what? Brett has that necessity, too. We have very entertaining discussions without ever getting angry.
It's stimulating.
It's awesome.
...It's rare. Usually guys trying to impress me don't try to argue with me. Very boring of them.

Somehow, the fact that we both were blogging from different areas of the country made it possible for us to be instantly beyond the "trying to impress" phase. There's none of that. When my geographic situation changed and we met, we were left with instant compatability, instant affection, instant attraction, instant synchronicity.

It's bizarre.
It's stunning.
It's delightful. And a little scary.

Love hurts...but only physically. My advice? Walk, don't run, when the phone rings.