As of this writing I have been pondering if my chance of a decent relationship is on the verge of a breakdown because of my personal issues. It was a pleasant drive. We were both in seemingly comfortable silence until I reached my bed and texted her. I already feared that, but my fears were validated when she pointed it out – I made her feel like a complete stranger in a gathering where I was the one she knows the most.
That is the difficulty when relationships are built through modern technology. You just text each other. In some instances you get to send and receive photos taken by the other person. For some, getting updates through social networks makes things a lot easier, too. Yes, it is pretty convenient, but it is making us all cowards.
We have become cowards because we can easily say things and not worry about the reaction of the other person because we can choose not to respond. We would not even see their facial expressions or hear the change in the tone of voice. Everything seems to be convenient with technology.
Technology is my medium because I easily say how I feel through writing than an actual encounter. Technology sends my message faster. This is what I am afraid of – the virtual relationship. In the first place, after I told her I like her I started to feel like standing on a diving board and totally clueless of what is down there. The technology that made me so eager to tell my thoughts about her presented me with a blurred understanding of our current state. If it is not “us” then what are we? Sooner or later we would have to face it. Tacitly, I gave her ring privileges, i.e. she can call me any time and I guarantee to answer or call back; and I am glad she calls me, too. Where ever I am, I make sure I would tell her. In return she would actually tell me her plans for the rest of the week. We are at the level that we point out our shortcomings to one another. This is where we are now, but I want more.
I do not want to settle texting or hearing her voice. I want to see her on regular basis. I want to be that person who could worry about her when she is sick and do something to ease how she feels. I want her to meet the dearest people in my life. Most importantly, I want to conquer my fear of being touch and actually hold her – her hand if she falls, her hair when a gum gets stuck in it, her knees if she gets bruised, her face if she clumsily puts spaghetti sauce on her cheeks, her shoulders if she feels tired, and her back to assure her that “everything will be fine.”
She is someone who I chose to let in my personal bubble I am so protective of. This opened myself to all other emotions I kept myself away from because these are things I do not understand: disappointment, regret, jealousy, attachment, anxiety, love, uncertainty, joy and fear. But welcoming that special person in our lives is most of the times like that – unplanned and unexplained.
I sat in her car while she took a nap, and stared at the blinking green light in front of us. I will not settle being that person who is virtually building a relationship with her. I want to be a warm body. She is worthy of the internal turmoil I am experiencing. I like her but I need to know the answer to “where do I stand?” Until otherwise stated, I cannot assume for there are things that need to be explicitly told.