“I’d keep you anyway,.. and make myself love you, because me not liking you isn’t an option now anyway…. its already happened”

When I decided to create a blog I began as I have so many things: without a plan. I had no objective for it, not one iota of an idea of what it would be about. First, I was opposed to having a blog to talk about myself because then it would become a journal and I already have a LiveJournal that I don’t even use so then it would be another useless account in cyberspace. Alas, I still cannot reconcile this personal dilemma. So I’m going to stop trying, and write.

I did not want to begin with this topic, but as fate would have it, a few recent events have unfolded.

He [Boy A] asked me why “a self-proclaimed debutante is single? girls like you are NEVER single..” So, I had to explain myself, or at least attempt to… and explaining oneself is perhaps the most singularly difficult, if not impossible, task. How was I to sum up who I am in an IM box? How would I articulate it over the phone? What words could I meticulously select that would elucidate who I am? I could think of none. Well, that’s not entirely true. I thought of quite a few, of course: assertive, pragmatic, but sweet… self-centered, stubborn, but funny! Materialistic, beautiful, but compassionate! All of these “buts”, I felt that I was using the conjunction to mitigate the bad by incorporating more of the good. Alas, I was making no progress so I finally settled on saying that I was “special” and was looking for someone “special” to be with. Gah. It was awful. No literary devices could save me!

Perhaps I’m not alone then, in suffering from this self imposed dichotomy. Man versus Self, the classic case. But this post is not entirely about who I am– or is it? Maybe it is, actually. Well, the entire blog is about who I am.. But I digress. I think I am in love. I’m not really sure. Honestly, I think I’m in love with the idea of one particular person. He is a musician. A very wealthy one. He’s Scottish, a brooding intellectual, maybe even self-destructive at time. He’s nice. He’s very tall. He’s handsome and we connect. He said things today that I never want to forget but am wary to post in my blog because in troth, these things are never really private.

In brief, we’ve chatted before via AIM, then he was going to visit for New Years– he told me he loved me. He and his band never came. I sort of drifted and it felt like he did as well. Recently, I traveled to Ireland and I sent him an email recounting my travels there, and how beautiful it all was, etc. Today, he finally IMs me and we chat for hours.. he said he loved me. He said he wanted to kidnap me and get married. I asked him what if he kidnapped me and then did not like me and he said that it was too late. He already did. And that if he did not, he would make himself love me.

I think it is wholly possible and the scary part is I think I do like him. I remember being angry with myself on New Years for liking him so much, or at least what I measure as “so much.” So, I do have feelings for him and I think I am in love with the idea of him. He’s like.. my fantasy. Almost everything I want in a man: five cups of alpha-male, six cups of bad-boy; a carton of tragic genius; five tablespoons of 6′7″ sugar; a teaspoon of asshole; bake on broil for an hour for one delicious international confection. It all feels so real, though, like it’s within grasp.. I think of him and I see flashing lights.

Conversely, there’s another man. Yesterday, I would have said that I love him. And I do have love for him and I could love him, be happy with him forever. But he’s never sent a photo, and we talk every night via IM, I’ve sent him postcards, we talk about everything and all things but he’s far from loaded and did not graduate from a tier 1 institution. And I’m not casting judgment, really, because I love him.. but he’s never been so vocal. It’s only divulged in cute little words like “Luff yooouuu” that are meaningful but are not fulfilling, you know? What is peculiar though is that I feel like I’m demeaning this affection for something uncertain. Stephen Jeffrey said it best in his play The Libertine when Elizabeth Berry told John that “I will not swap my certain glory for your undependable love.” That is how I feel about the musician although he claims otherwise.

What is a dueling heart to do? I revert to myself. I press forward, continue to live and allow life to unfold organically until one day, my heart will no long duel and I will be content to love one man unconditionally, with all of me. And trust, there is a lot