The last few weeks have been fairly uneventful. I’ve been focused on getting back to my regular healthy eating and exercise routine, and Coach has been on vacation. I don’t know if y’all have figured this out yet, but I get bored kind of easily and thrive on constant change. That’s exactly why I cleaned (we’ll rearranged) my bedroom this weekend. Well that, and probably the fact that Coach’s return has been at the top of my mind for the last few days (he’s back today).
Now, I can’t say that he texted me more or communicated better while he was away… but we were in contact pretty frequently. Like every day. Which felt like more.
At first I was surprised. I’ve never had service while in the Caribbean. Granted he’s not on a cruise in the middle of the ocean, but a small island where it takes a half hour to get from one side to the other seems pretty remote to me. But after a few days I was glad we were able to text. He sent me pictures (of the island! Get your mind out of the gutter) and told me he wished I were there.
I wish I were too. I missed him. I sent back gooey messages. We both said we couldn’t wait to see each other. It was true. It is true. But, here’s the thing: as his texts increased in their cuteness, my anxiety about him coming back and wanting to define our relationship also increased.
From the beginning with Coach, I’ve liked him – a fact that took me a while to accept. And even when we defined our relationship (twice), it took me a bit to get used to the idea that I was in a situationship. Literally, a few weeks ago, after he met my parents and my cousins, I was still in denial. To everyone else he is my boyfriend… But I can’t – or won’t – admit that. And I’m not sure why.
Do I like him? Of course.
When we’re together, is it fun? Most of the time.
Is there mutual attraction? Yes.
Yet my anxiety about him being my boyfriend is there. More now than ever before. If he’s my boyfriend, we are exclusive. If we’re exclusive, I lose this freedom that honestly I enjoy having. And despite what my sister may think, it’s not about being able to drunkenly (or not drunkenly) make out with random people I meet at bars. I mean… it’s not just about that. I don’t think.
I’m trying to work this out… Being exclusive means that I’m making a decision to be with him. Just him. For how long…? And then our situationship turns into a relationship… and I’m in it. Invested in it. Saying, “Yes…This is what I want. This is the person I want to be with.”
But what if it’s not? And… What if he’s not?
I’m not saying I don’t want to be with him. I do. But I’ve gotten into my own head and I’m kinda, sorta freaking out. Just a little.
I realize I don’t have to agree to be his girlfriend. I realize that I’m jumping the gun a little here. I could see him tonight and nothing could change – all his gooey texts were just because he missed me and he doesn’t want more. I realize that I don’t have to want this, or him, long term. I realize I don’t have to know any of this right now.
But I want to.
Because I do like him.
And I’m going to see him in less than an hour!