brenda's heart

So, I thought I’d start keeping a little diary. A little one. Something to write in whenever I feel the urge to, which lately, seems to be a lot. It’s for me and sorta for Joanne, who writes in her own journal that I read religiously.

This whole month of November, I have been neurotic. Perhaps it’s the 7^th month itch that comes with being in a relationship. It’s the shift from the “newness feeling” to the “comfortable feeling.” I’ve been through it a few times but NEVER this bad. Quite possibly, it could be because I actually love this one with my entire heart. Also, I think my natural depression around the holidays has transcended into my relationship. If it wasn’t bad enough that I’m going through all these emotions with HIM, I have to deal with all the emotions I usually get during the holidays. Poor guy. I’ve been trying really hard to be sane and to be careful not to let all this extra emotion get to me, but no such luck. It doesn’t help either that because I love him so much, I’m extremely insecure.

Joanne and I talked about that last weekend. When you are with your first love, you aren’t insecure. You’re innocent. You don’t suspect cheating or lies or anything. You think it’s forever and you’re naïve to the truth. Then, you break up. Ah, your first heartbreak and you will NEVER be the same. At least, girls aren’t. It’s like losing your virginity. You can never go back to that innocence. Every relationship afterwards, you carry that heartache. You suspect. You wonder. You try to be sane. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others. I, on the other hand, am not.

I remember my first love. D@nte-Br!an-D0mingo (typed like that to prevent google finding it.) How naïve I was at 16. I thought he was the one for me forever. I kept every ticket, every napkin and every picture in a box until we broke up. Then, I burned that damn box and shook my fist at love. I vowed to never be in love again. To never give my heart to anyone. I was doing pretty damn well, too. At least I wasn’t insane anymore. How I miss that pre-first love innocence. How I wish I could have it back.

No, instead I fell in love with R. And now, we are going through that 7^th month itch. At least, I AM. I still expect all the cuddling and affection you get when things are new. I love, love, LOVE the beginnings of relationships. The constant desire to be together and missing them after only a few hours. The long, drawn out kisses. The butterflies in your stomach. As the honeymoon ends, things just get more comfortable. Long kisses turn to pecks, you bicker more, etc. I have no probably with comfortable because usually, USUALLY, it brings certainty and security. In this relationship though, I worry that “comfortable” equals “falling out of love.” Makes no sense, right? Probably because with R. I feel so naked and vulnerable. I’m not use to this for two reasons: (1) I wasn’t like this with my first love, who I gave my heart to, because I did not know the pain of heartache and (2) because I have never given anyone my heart after Brian. Now, I feel like I am just out there with no guard and no weapons. Let me tell you, I’m scared shitless.  Me scared shitless = insanity.

I’ve been so snappy and quick on the draw, which leads me to worry that because I’m out of character, he’ll get annoyed with me and “like me less.” I’m NOT like this. I’m not usually like this. THIS ISN’T ME. The looking over the shoulder, the worrying, the constant, “Do you love me? Do you? DO YOU?” THAT ISN’T ME. And yet, it has become me. And I hate that person I’ve become. Hopefully, I can start being normal again – that is, if I ever was – and repair the little dents I’ve caused in our relationship.

I know it would take a long time to fix my heart if we broke up but I don’t think I could take knowing my insanity drove our relationship apart. I love him so much. I love the way he cuddles me before we fall asleep and I love cuddling him when we wake up. I love his kiss before he goes to work. I love the way he smells. I love how goofy he is. I LOVE when he knows random facts. I love the way he looks when he’s examining something or researching something. I love the smile he gives me when I walk into the room or how his arms look when he reaches out for a hug. I love when he stays “I love you” on the phone and then gives me a kiss. It’s everything about him, even when he’s an annoying butt, I love him. I just can’t imagine being without him. And that, in and of itself, is insane.