I’m not going to lie to you, I find the whole new relationship thing difficult. While everyone moons on about how it’s all wonderful and exciting, I tend to just spend most of it a little terrified.
Don’t get my wrong, I get the tingle of anticipation and the butterflies accompanying the kissing and the sickeningly long, lingering looks and I enjoy it, I really do…but the rest of the time I’m like a tightly coiled spring.
I guess it’s the fight or flight thing. I’m ready to run, for him to change his mind or back off or start playing games and when he does, I’m off quick smart back into my own cosy little world where it’s just me and I’m safe. Not that he has given me any reason at all to think he might do any of those things, just the opposite, he reassures me constantly.
The past few weeks, I have been so tightly wound that I feel like I might just jump up out of my chair and run and run and run and run until I fall down. Not run away, just run. I imagine this is what a mouse must feel like when it has to dash the gauntlet past the people and cats and traps to get that piece of cheese (or chocolate if you really know your mouse facts).
My emotions are so all over the place that I’m not sure if I really want to jump for joy or dissolve into a sobbing heap on the floor…well, in actual fact I have been swinging wildly between doing both of those things. Perhaps I’m so unused to feeling happy and secure that I’m at a loss for what to do with all these hormones and my body is just in total confusion. Or perhaps I am just completely and utterly terrfied of letting myself like someone this much and possibly getting hurt again that my body is preparing itself.
I know what you will say, I’ve known you all for long enough and it’s what I’d say to someone in the same position, ‘just try and relax and enjoy it’. Well yes, I am trying and I am enjoying it. Enjoying that because i’d had such a horrible day yesterday, he brough me dinner round and gave me a cuddle and that he basically things I’m the best thing since sliced bread….It’s the in-between times that are tough, the times when I don’t see him. When he’s busy at work or with life in general and this poor little bruised heart and mixed up head of mine convince each other that he’s forgotten all about me or he’s realised that I’m completely and utterly bonkers and he’s best off out or that in fact, he doesn’t want all the lovely things that he’s been saying he does and it was all a big mix up, I’m not the right person.
I’ve given myself talkings to. I’m trying to be sane and rational. I’ve tried explaining to him that I just panic, but it’s hard to get the internal, discombobulated feelings to form a sentence and come out of my mouth making sense…especially if you’re me and there’s so many of the damn thoughts wizzing around that getting hold of one is like trying to catch a fly.
Tell me it’s not just me? Please, before I self combust.