French Lesson

I have a tendency to bring up serious topics late at night. I'm not really sure why I do this. I'm usually tired, but my brain is racing with thoughts of questions unanswered, and anxieties unfounded. Shutting up is almost always the best option, but I speak my mind anyway. I spoke up last night (this morning, really) when my otherwise fantastic date with 'Stache was winding down. We had been enjoying ourselves immensely all evening - dinner at "Awesome Restaurant", drinks at "Awesome Bar", and coffee on his cushy couch (complete with a blankie-snuggling dog that is beyond cute). And of course we made out, like teenagers. You know, the kind of making out that leaves you a little lightheaded from the rerouted blood flow and from a level of restraint that is similar to the level that you experience when you are confronted with a really great pair of patent leather Nike/Cole Haan shoes with a graceful pointed toe and delicate little buckle across the top that are on clearance for $100. You try them on, but know that you absolutely shouldn't buy them. You don't need them, but holy frickin' frick you want them!

*sigh*

So, it was kinda like that...following me, people? K. It is at this point - when things are, of course, about as peachy as they can get - that I think to myself, "Hmm, self, why don't you ask him that question that's been on your mind for the past few days? You know, the one you do not want to hear the answer to, but secretly hope it's the answer you want? Yeah, yeah! The big DTR* talk! God, the timing couldn't be better!!" Something in me must have had some authority to override my better judgement, because I asked. I said, "So, I am going to ask you something, and I want the honest answer..." Yeah... Ladies, don't lead with this. Fellas, this is french for 'lie to me'. Look it up, it is.

I asked, "Are you actively pursuing other people to date?" As soon as the words escaped my freshly smooched lips, I regretted it. I knew I was in over my anxious little head regardless of the answer. I'm telling you, shut up about anything remotely serious after 11:00 pm. His answer is irrelevant now. I knew already, but just wanted to hear it so that my mind would stop the harassing phone calls to my heart, asking to pay the bill already and be bold with my emotions. Nah, not a good plan. Forgive that bill, please. I have to learn to just chill and enjoy the people in my life for who they are, and what they can be to me. Many previous relationships have drowned because of my thrist for the DTR moment. Take, for example, my brief time with Pants. He had so much potential, so much to offer. We were passionate lovers, fun friends, and loving parents to our respective children. Coulda been pretty cool. Enter Anxious Pinot. Ah well. We "broke up", if you can even call it that, via text after about 6 weeks, then reconnected after Valentine's Day. Soon afterward, a date came up out of nowhere, and we have considered trying it out again. I immediately resolved to not be that girl that I had been before. I would simply enjoy whatever opportunities came my way and do my best to avoid the overthinking game, of which I am a pro.

Along came 'Stache and I have since scrapped that whole plan. Darn you, and your adorable dog. 'Stache knows my dirty little secret now, and he still wants to date me... I am happy. Pants and I still communicate, but I have no idea where that will go and I am okay with just watching it progress as one would watch a cloud floating across a late afternoon sky...slow, steady, and entirely out of my control.

...

So, my oath:
I, Pinot, do solemnly swear to check myself often; to keep my unanswered relationship-y questions to my own damn self after 11:00 pm on weeknights; and to feel the love and accept it for what it is, in the moment: pure and peachy.

*DTR=define the relationship. Not for the faint of heart. Do not ride this ride if you have an irregular heartbeat, back problems, high blood pressure, gout, or are recovering from recent surgery.