That's How The Cat Was Killed

A few weeks ago, Mr. Wild Card and I got into our first fight.  Wait...let me clarify: by fight, I mean, I yelled at him, he really didn't know what I was mad about and oooooh, was I mad.  This is where you're like, 'Ooh, gurl! What did he do?,' but it's not that simple.  In fact, I kind of had no leg to stand on, when you get down to it.

Here's a Cliff's Notes version of events for you:

We had a great night.  Really, we did.  It was New Years' Eve and we were out with people we liked and everything was perfect.  My heart was exploding in sincere thankfulness that I got to spend such a super evening with someone I was growing to love.  We tweeted our affections to each other.  We kissed at midnight.  We shared the first moments of 2013 together.  It was a good memory-making night.

At the very end of the night, I somehow winded up with possession of his phone.  I mean, he hands me his phone all the time - it wasn't any different than usual.  Now, I'm not a snooper (yes, I know every girl says that, but I really try not to be) and he tells me everything, so I had no reason to be concerned anyway.  I have never felt, not a single time, that he wasn't telling me the truth.   

Anyway, back to the phone: I flipped through his pictures, looking for one we took together, so I could send it to myself and post it to Instagram.  I found it and went to close the phone, when IT happened.  I promise you that it was an accident.  I swear on my cardigan collection, I wasn't looking for anything.

I'm not sure how (my clumsy Yeti fingers are at fault, I'm sure), but I ended up in his text message.  (Hey, hey, it's a common mistake.  Isn't it?  *gulp* Yes, I'm aware of how bad this sounds.) I ended up seeing a message from him to one of his friends and it hurt my feelings.  It wasn't anything too terrible and had been written a really long time before, but it still made me sad and angry.  The problem? I shouldn't have been looking at the messages in the first place.

Let me put this into context for you:  I was reading the things his friend was writing (which was about their relationship) and it was getting interesting.  He was saying super nice things about me and how his family liked me and how I'm so great (I'd go on about all that, but you're already aware of my good points, so I'll move on). I mean, I had to DIG through the messages to get to the bad one.  Like, load the page a few dozen times.  Bad Jeana. So, so bad.

I was like a person possessed.  I couldn't stop.  I'd never had that inclination before and it was a hard realization that I had invaded his privacy.  It didn't matter what he said to his friend, that was between his friend and him and was written in confidence.  I wasn't supposed to see it.  I took things out of context and just railed on him.  It came out of nowhere for him on a night that was otherwise terrific.  I spoiled it because I got nosy.

Now, he's not completely faultless here.  He did something that warranted my anger, but it's almost a Catch 22: I wouldn't have been angry if I didn't let my curiosity be my guide.  The whole thing wouldn't have happened if I has just stepped away from the phone.  I learned a really hard lesson here: the only thing you gain by violating someone's trust is guilt.  Maybe you don't know about something for a reason, a good reason.  Maybe it's saving you some grief and overthinking.  All truths come out eventually, right?

Even from this bump, something good happened: Mr. Wild Card and I got closer.  We worked through it.  He was patient with my hesitation.  He didn't hold my clear invasion of his personal property against me, in fact, he apologized.  He never even got mad.  He had every right to be upset with me going through his stuff, but he chose not to and I'm not sure why.  He's way better at this whole dating thing than I am, obviously.

Everyone, no matter how much they usually aren't, can be nosy.  They can go past their typical boundaries and be a snoop.  And then there are other people who are just snooptacular.  They are like private investigators.  Either way, you've got to fight that feeling. You've got to understand that if you're supposed to know something, you'll be told eventually.  You've got to let trust rule.  A relationship just isn't going to work otherwise.

I've learned my lesson and hopefully you've learned from it too.

~J

Complicated Is Overrated

One thing I've noticed in dating Mr. Wild Card is that everything was just so easy with him.  We became 'official' with minimal talking - he initiated the conversation and I was more than agreeable.  We made it official on Facebook without much push and pull.  We were able to transition into saying "I love you" easily.  All of these things made sense in the moment, there wasn't any hesitation or backpedaling.  It was so easy.

It made me look back at some of my old relationships and realize that all the times that I have become a couple with someone, it was just as easy.  (Now, the breaking up part wasn't so easy, but such is life.)  There weren't any guessing games or having playing my cards close to the vest - it was easy.  Huh.  I think I'm onto something here.

See, the thing is that sometimes girls, young women, ladies or other such feminine creatures make relationships a lot harder than they need to be.  They make non-relationships harder than they need to be.  (Note: I make everything harder than it needs to be - sorry, Mr. Wild Card.)  It doesn't have to be that way at all. 

If you are supposed to be dating someone, it's going to happen.  There's no amount of scheming, make-up, pouty faces, purposefully missed calls or causal run-ins that will make anyone want to date you more than they already do or do not.  You can't create a situation in which you suddenly become more desirable to someone who just isn't interested.  Why waste all that effort and subject yourself to heartache when that person you're putting on a pedestal doesn't even have you on their radar?

Advice tells you not to be too available, not to talk too much, not to be too needy, not to pry, not to monopolize all their time, not to do this and that.  It's garbage.  There is no cocktail of behavior that can make someone want to date you.  Be yourself - your person will care about you no matter how much you talk or how often you call.  The person that you are supposed to be dating will find the amount of time they see your face just right or not enough.  Your partner will care about hearing you complain about work, will tweet at you no matter how busy they are and will like when you post pictures of you and them on every social media outlet in existence.  Your person will love you no matter how you act - they love you because you are you. 

Why, then, do we make it so complicated?  Because the heart wants what the heart wants?  Because endless books and articles about dating tell us too?  Forget that.  You aren't supposed to convince or persuade someone into a relationship.  It's meant to be easy and natural; we all need that reminder every so often. 

So, get rid of the notion that there is some magic to dating.  It's straightforward.  You like someone and they like you and you spend time together and if you still like each other, you continue to date.  Simple.

Here's to more simple in 2013.

~j

Mr. Wild Card (aka The Boyfriend)

Preface: I know it's been a little while since I've written, so please accept my apologies. I, like you, have been busy and (unlike you, I'm sure) utterly self-absorbed.  Luckily, one of my resolutions is to write at least once a week, so I hope that appeases you.

The last time I wrote, I had just gone on several dates with this guy that I wasn't too sure about.  I mean, he was perfectly fine, more than that really, but I just didn't think he really liked me.  He was way different than any other person I've dated in a long time.  He was confident, self-assured, socially aware, secure, independent, forward thinking and a little cocky.  He was the wild card amongst the few guys I was talking to in late autumn.   

My insecurities came into play - I felt like he was way more attractive than me, could do much better and wouldn't be interested in me after hearing my loud laugh, learning about my obsession with 90's & Canadian teen dramas, figuring out what a nerd I am and finding out just how much I tweet.  I never, in a million years, thought that Mr. Wild Card and I would go further than just those few dates.

I was wrong.  As it happens, this guy is my new boyfriend.

I'm not really sure how it happened, if I'm being honest.  He kept asking me out and I kept saying yes.  I think I was stuck on the fact that I thought he would get tired of me or figure out that I was a square that I sort of disconnected myself from my feelings a little bit.  In other words, I was scared.  Mr. Wild Card was legitimately interested in dating me and I didn't know how to take that.  I didn't know if I would be the person he thought I was in the beginning.  You see, I acted aloof and like I could take it or leave it, so if I started to take this whole thing seriously, my demeanor would inevitably change and then what would he think?

After much internal debate, I decided that if he wanted to date me, he was going to get the full Jeana treatment.  Inappropriately loud laughter in quiet places.  Funny voices and the use of accents.  Random dance breaks.  Singing of everything.  Twitter addiction.  Picky eating.  Dates occurring after running in which a shower was not taken.  Snorts.  Diet Pepsi adoration.  Jeans and a t-shirt worn with beat up sneakers.  Endless commentary during movies.  Problems with dwelling on things.  Occasional neediness.  Inability to take a compliment.  Lack of desire to cuddle at any time.  Ineptitude at sharing feelings.

What I mean to say is I showed him my crazy.

We all have it, but I tend to hide mine for a long time when dating someone new.  I wanted to put everything out there, so he would know what he was getting into - if he saw all this and still hung around, I knew he would be worth all the trouble, hurt feelings and potential sadness I was desperately trying to avoid. 

The amazing thing is, he did stay and he is kind of, well, amazing.  I'm definitely not saying he's perfect, he's done some dumb stuff, but he's the exact person I need in my life right now.  He loves all the parts that I thought weren't lovable.  He tells me I'm beautiful and instead of brushing him off, I'm learning to accept it.  He makes me want to share my *gulp* feelings.  He easily forgives me when I mess up.  He makes me want to try.  He's made me believe in love again.

(Sidenote: Gosh, I sound uber cheesy, don't I?  Forgive me, I'm sure this new love haze will wear off soon.)

This relationship is making me a better person.  I'm growing, learning and changing for the better; isn't that what having a grown up relationship is about, really?  More than companionship, Mr. Wild Card has given me my belief that there are people out there that will truly care about me, like I do them.  If this doesn't last (but golly, I sure hope it does!), I can look back on this whole thing with fondness simply because I've gained that realization. That's an incredible feeling.

Maybe, in my heart of hearts, I am really a romantic and it just took someone to bring it out.  Here's to hoping that this new year is full of love, joy, happiness, romance, growth and more time with the people that are important.

With a full and happy heart,
J