What a difference a year makes

You may have noticed that my approach to writing about Owen is radically different than my approach to writing about "Tim" (Mr. Separated-but-not-divorced). I'm staying home sick today (damn stomach) and I took a look at what was going on just a year ago. As I reread those old posts, I could feel the anxiety that was the keynote of that situation. That crazy battle I waged between reason and hope. How, even when everything seemed hunky-dory, I'd still be losing my mind just a little.

I think I wanted an answer to the boyfriend question with Tim because there were so many uncertainties. Because he was still committed to someone else, I needed some kind of commitment from him. I was never going to get it. I eventually realized that. No such issues are at play with Owen.

Still, when I share my feelings and anxieties about Owen, I keep waiting for the smack down from my readers. I keep waiting to be told, "stop calling him so much" or "quit overanalyzing" or "I give it two months, max" or "relax." (I did get "relax," but it was well deserved and gently delivered.)

I think there are a couple of reasons I'm not getting the same reactions. For one, I don't have the same commenters (a few, but there's been a big turnover--perhaps I scared away the more critical ones?) The other is that I haven't shared as many details about Owen. Fewer details=fewer things to comment on (which is not an accident).

But, after reading a few of the anxiety-laden posts from last year, I think I know the real reason. It's because the way I'm feeling is different and it shows.

With Owen, I have never, ever, for one second, felt the despair and hopelessness that I felt when I was seeing Tim. I feel happy when I'm with Owen and only occasionally, mildly perturbed when I'm not.

In fact, even with a few moments of anxiety here and there and some fretting about calling protocol, I have to say that the overwhelming way I feel is normal. My life hasn't radically changed. I get my work done, I talk to my friends, watch tv. I row, read, eat sleep, surf the net, etc. I'm not all wrapped up in just one thing. I'd be happy to spend more time with Owen, but I'm not that worried about it. I'm not discombobulated. It's novel. I mean, me+new guy usually equals a whole lotta crazy. This time? I'm not denying that I've had my moments, but crazy-crazy? Not so much.

Things are intense with Owen, but we are moving slowly. I haven't worried about commitment. He freaked out a little about long-term stuff and I calmed him down. I don't need to talk about it. It's true that some definition of things would probably do away with the little bit of anxiety I am feeling. But, you know what? I can also do away with my anxiety. At least that is the plan. I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I'm going to stop waiting. Waiting for it to happen is the best way to ensure that it will. I'll just think this: Owen is funny, smart, kind, silly and sweet. I like being around him, talking to him, kissing him. And I'm sure he feels the same way. Is there a problem here? I don't think so. But I trust you to let me know if I'm wrong.

Grateful for: normal.

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