Charissa thinks too much

Kevin came over tonight.

Kevin went to school with my good friend Mark, and I first met Kevin at Mark's sixteenth birthday party. We didn't see eachother again until this year; so a lot has changed since then. Mark and Kevin came over to watch a movie tonight.

Right now, Kevin's majoring in English, and has been interested in film for a while--so he's a Theatre Kid! He's also very much a Virgo, and a fun person to be around.

Do I like him?

Yeah, definitely; I mean, he's a great guy and all.

Do I like him?

That's a bit more complicated. I like spending time with him, and I love that he knows how to move/mime/act; he's graceful and articulate that way. And, sure, I think he's physically attractive. The truth is that, yes, I like him; but for one trait. He's such a Virgo. I mean that he's not very passionate; he's a perfectionist for the sake of being a perfectionist, not because he is compelled.

On a side note, I guess this also says something about me. I like to be able to affect people--especially romantic partners. I'm not sure if this means I have some kind of power complex where I need to be able to control people; but in any case, I like to know I cause change or reactions. (This actually caused me some problems in my last romantic relationship, because my sweetheart wasn't a very expressive person, and so I had difficulty interpreting the lack of responses.)

Anyway.

Coupled with the fact that I have never been prepared for romantic relationships, is the knowledge that Kevin is so completely not appropriate for me.

I wish I had the ability to let myself simply enjoy whatever -ship we have or will have; but I'm so worried I'll do something stupid--again. I wish I could run my fingers through his incredibly wiry hair and tell him how handsome he is. I wish I could tell him how much I admire his ability to express with motion. I wish I could kiss him. And then, I wonder why I want all these things.

The words "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" never meant anything real to me; mostly because every time I was introduced to someone's -friend, they spent the rest of the time doing private things together in our company, so maybe I've associated those words with those private actions--kissing, playing with hair, affectionate petting. So, somewhere in my mind is this picture of what a romance is supposed to look like. I think the whole problem is just about labeling; but I can't simply not-label anything. That's the opposite of learning.


My best friend 
 
This is how Eric and I became best friends.

We met eachtoher in the winter of 2005 when our high school's choir needed more males. Later, our Music groups took a trip to Chicago on a bus. Eric and I were bus-buddies, which basically meant that we sat together on the bus for the 17 hours there, the 17 hours back, the umpteen hours traveling from one destination to another, and spent umpteen hours together at the actual destinations. The only times we weren't together was when we slept in different rooms (boys with boys, girls with girls; though this arrangement presumes a bit) or when one band went here while another went there.

So, on that trip, we became pretty comfortable with eachother.

However, it was the Summer of Eric that made the difference.

Over the spring and summer, we spent time together; mostly biking. When the summer of 2006 rolled around, and I'd graduated, we still managed to find time. We spent many summer nights just sitting, standing or laying on his front lawn and talking; sometimes as last as midnight (which was late by his standards).

During this time, we talked about anything: God, ourselves, family, relationships, people, bands, music, our futures... I think Eric was the first person I "came out to" (I remember saying, "What would change if I started calling myself 'bisexual'?"). Or maybe Mark was first, I forget.

In any case, we developed an ease of understanding eachother; of communicating and reading.

I used to make this gesture whenever I found something unbelievable: I'd put my hands just behind my head, with my fingers touching my thumbs, and then bring them forward suddenly and open my palms. The first time I texted "?!" to Eric, he replied with a lol, saying that he could see exactly what that expression looked like.

One night, Eric and I were talking, and one of us wanted to ask a question, and the other said, "Yeah," right away, and we both understood exactly what the other wanted to convey. And then Eric sort-of paused and said suddenly, "I think this is what marriage must be like."

We talked once about "going out", and we both have our own reasons--whether or not they coincide is of little consequence--but my strongest reason is that, to have any other relationship with him, now, after our best-friend-ship, would be less. It just--it wouldn't.

Eric currently has a girlfriend, and I was extremely happy when I found out (he'd never had a girlfriend before, and felt he was missing out; maybe because I had a sweetheart at the time and prattled on and on, and on, and on). Eric explained to me that, right off the bat, they had talked about what their relationship would be like; and they decided that it didn't matter what "girlfriend" or "boyfriend" meant; they were going to do as they liked, regardless of others' expectations.



This is what I would love to have with Kevin--no expectation. If we're friends, we're friends; if we laugh, we laugh; and if we kiss, we kiss.

What disturbed me about my affections for him was that he is so completely not what I'd prefer in a lover. (Ideally, I'd want a brooding math genius; but that's for an entirely different blog entry.)

So, I think I need to learn that it's okay to be however I am; it's okay for him to be however he is. ... I hope I learn that quickly and well!



Other things I've thought about tonight:

- This was the first time Kevin was in the house. I showed him around, and he commented, twice, "This is a big house." So after he left, I walked around and stood where he had stood and tried to see as he might have seen. (Both he and Mark come from much smaller houses than this.)

- I was talking with Mum after they'd left; and suddenly said, "Man, I don't think I could have kids. I mean, I don't understand the kids one year younger than me; and we--you're thirty years older than me, and we can barely communicate! How could I ever hope to communicate with people thirty years younger than me if I can't understand the kids one year younger?"


And that's all for tonight. As the title of this entry so plainly states, Charissa thinks too much.

--Charissa