“Intimacy is a four syllable word for, ‘Here’s my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy.'”
-Meredith, Grey’s Anatomy
Some people are naturally good at relationships: they buy presents constantly, have cutesy nicknames for each other, and count and celebrate every single week/month/whatever of their duality. They wander around in a fond fog until, 9 times out of 10, it crashes spectacularly around them. Then they take some time, recover, and bounce right on to the next lover with varying degrees of trepidation but probably with that butterfly-in-stomach feeling still intact.
I am not one of these people. I suck at relationships. My communications skills are nil and I have an overdeveloped Fight or Flight response. In fact I tended to avoid emotional commitment for most of my life and never dated anyone I actually liked enough to upset my equilibrium. Fairy puts it’s kindly by saying I’m “emotionally stunted.”
Unfortunately relationships don’t get easier with practice (sometimes I think I’m getting worse even after 10 months of practice with J.) and you can’t buy into all the mumbo-jumbo that magazines, prime-time television, and well-intentioned friends try to soothe you with: we’re all clueless. Just as soon as you figure out the rules, the ground shifts under your feet. Luckily I’ve gotten to the point where this sort of freefalling doesn’t scare me as much, mostly I’m left muttering under my breath, “Good grief, what now?” while I plummet. My problem when this occurs isn’t so much that I’m falling, but that I can’t get my bearings until I hit the ground again, at which point I try to reorient while recovering from the impact.
I can’t be alone here; I know my 203 VIPS at least have a few good stories on the romantic end, Venice is a newlywed learning to deal, and Tink just had a baby and is heading towards being a SAHM. My London girls AbFab, Red, and Marie are all going through travel, romantic, and medical drama. Anyone else feel like they’re constantly playing catchup with life?!