Life as an Extreme Sport

Leaps of Faith

I’ve been trying to write this out for a while now, and not getting anywhere with it. I think it’s partly because I don’t know how to say what I want to say. I think it’s partly because I’m suddenly so aware of all the people reading this. Heh – “figures that my courage would choose to sell out now…”

I had a rough time of it this morning, and I’m not sure if it’s just me beating up on myself again or if I managed to get outside help this time around. I think a little of both, probably – a little of fear, a little of hurt, a little of bit of a lot. I’m not sure which is scarier, to trust intent or to trust enough to speak fear.

Several of the plans made in the last week have been cancelled, and one tentatively so. The tentative one was accepted before thinking the rest of the weekend plans thru – obviously if one is not in town, one cannot attend a party. The rest, tho. The rest have been cancelled because of the local girl, S~. It’s been a quick succession of “let’s do _this_” followed by “oh, shoot, I’ve not dealt with/handled/talked to S~ – let’s wait and do _this_” followed by the same thing. It’s getting to the point where the things that were planned instead of the original event are being bumped, all because of S~.

I’m trying to understand and be understanding. In the last six days, we’ve spent five together. In that time he’s seen her two or three times; each time with the intent (at least told to me) that he would talk with her. Each time without that happening. I guess he was supposed to talk with her last night, and ended up at my place instead.

I’m trying to understand. After all, shouldn’t I take comfort and strength in the fact that he’s been disrupting his plans with S~ for me? It might just be spun infatuation with me, but it’s there, none the less. Shouldn’t I try to understand from her point of view, where she has been hoping that finally he is simply hers? Shouldn’t I try to extrapolate how I’m feeling and apply it to her, who has had a movie date and three nights she thought she would be going home with him pulled from under her feet?

I’m trying, but I’m failing.

I mentioned this morning how I felt to him, when he told me that he thought our plans for tonight were off. Once again, because S~ would be there and he hasn’t talked with her yet. And I suggested that perhaps things are rocketing along too fast, perhaps I need to be put on hold for a bit, step back and into the shadows, while he really figures out what it is he wants. I know he doesn’t want to hurt her, and is trying to work out in himself the best way to avoid that. But I also know that I don’t want to be hurt, and am being so inadverdantly. Yes, it would hurt to be placed on hold, but it seems like it might hurt less, it might be easier for him, for her, for everyone.

Understandably enough, he got frustrated with me for that. For cutting off his apology, and for protesting when he tried to figure out how to solve something that I brought up as bothering me. That’s fair; if I’m going to bring up something that concerns me, I have to give him the chance to fix it, to handle it as he sees fit.

It’s hard. I won’t lie, I won’t deny that. It’s hard. I don’t know what I’m doing or where the balance is. I try to take comfort in the fact that he feels the same way, that he is flying by the seat of his pants as much as I am by my own. But still…

…there was more there, more typed, and as I read and reread I realized, again, the first sentances of the paragraph. It’s been only six days, and he is flying by the seat of his pants as much as I am by mine. More than an unexpected bump in the road, I have completely turned his life on end; he is doing the best he can. There will be mistakes, there will be hiccups and hurt, and instead of running, instead of crawling back into my shell, instead of going into a holding pattern and simply waiting for him to take action, I need to take my own. I need to not hide, I need to stand behind him with hugs and support, and most of all faith and love. Because ultimately it comes down to trust, doesn’t it? I have to trust that he will make the best decisions for himself, and that I will make the best for myself. I have to trust he will do what he thinks right with regards to S~, B~, and myself.

I stand, arms wide, at the edge of a cliff. I stand, eyes closed, and I jump.