Alanis Morissette once sung ‘It’s meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife’. I would have to say in my opinion, this is less ironic and more of a plain ol’ kick in the teeth. Fear not, I’m not about to proclaim I’m breaking up a marriage (not that kinda girl), but it does set the tone for my current sticky situation.
So, I’ve met this guy.*swoon* For name-sake, we’ll call him Mr. A-Lake (he’ll enjoy the reference). He came out of no-where and within a couple of weeks, not a day went by that we didn’t speak. Lake is a different breed of man, in that he’s interested in what comes out of my mouth, more than what I look like. We spend a long time just talking, sharing opinions, discussing new ideas and it feels great to be able to connect with a guy on this level, rather than the generic ‘fancy a quicky’ which leaves me vomiting in my mouth at their grossness and marching off.
Lake and I never get bored of each other. We spent one night on skype to each other for 4 long-ass hours…that’s a hefty time span to speak to anyone, let alone a new love interest. But it felt as if I’d known him for ages, and time only mattered when one of us (me) eventually fell asleep mid convo (oops!). What I like about Lake is that he is my opposite and yet ticks all my boxes when evaluating a potential partner. He is still, serene, and so calming, whereas I am hyper and all over the place, flapping like a seal (to use his expression) on our first date. He likes routine and watches time, whereas I couldnt care less if I’m late and I don’t like to do the same thing twice. But, together, it just works. I’ll make him loosen up and laugh at himself, and he’ll tell me when I need to pay more attention and need to look at things with a more business frame of mind.
Lake himself is also very much my type…physically speaking. Over 6foot tall, his years have been spent in the modelling industry (his body is delicious) and his blue eyes make my brown ones feel hideously inadequate. I don’t like plain English guys, so it’s wonderful that Lake was born in Europe and has lived in two other countries before settling in London. With a perfect first date, and some perfect few weeks, I have been skipping around the City with a stupid grin on my face. There is, as expected, a big fat CATCH 22 to my cloud 9. He is, unofficially, “taken”. On a break from his long term relationship, Lake finds himself at a cross roads with one path that includes me, and the other that obviously doesn’t. Before you start ‘he’s got a girlfriend so he should know better’ chattering, which I do agree with of course, it’s really not that black and white. He obviously didn’t expect to stumble across me, but feels naturally attached to his initial love. What to do?
Being totally honest with me from the word go, I have never felt like the third party, or a dirty little secret. It’s just not like that with us. However, the first time I went round to his apartment, I was instantly greeted by the sight of a pair of ladies pumps by the front door. Biting my tongue, we snuggled into the sofa and all I could think about was ‘why the f**k has he left her shoes at the front door?’ Rest assured, she lives miles away from him, they don’t see each other often and more to the point, they’re apparantly on a break. Plus, he knew I was coming over so why did he not ease my uncomfortable feeling and remove the goddamn shoes from my view? I do have a conscience, and seeing the embellished pumps brought it home to me that this wasn’t just about a pair of Choos, but instead a trio where I am the single left heel minus the appropriate right heel, hanging around with a pair of pumps. (the shoe analogy taken a bit too far here, perhaps!)
I was hoping Lake would disappoint me in other areas, thus giving me a decent excuse to walk away pain free. As expected though, we connected on every possible level. I have never felt so immediately comfortable in someone’s arms, as if I’ve always belonged there and we’ve just been separated for a couple of decades. You can roll with the Edward – Bella connotations if that helps to see how close Lake and I are. He moves, I move. Unfortunately, our problematic partnership was just getting worse, the more we found it to get better. I don’t want to hurt another girl, or him, or myself. Finally, I mustered the courage to shut it down, knowing full well the day I ask him to choose will be the day he chooses her. Heck, I don’t even want to be the girl that makes a man choose anyway, I pride my dignity above everything else. If there is a lesson learnt from Mr. Big; it’s to always get out before you get in too deep and can’t save yourself. So, I’m attempting to leave, but Lake isn’t making it easy. He’ll text me the most beautiful things, knowing full well he can’t offer me what I deserve, but wanting me around all the same.
Then, on the flip side, what if I actually am supposed to spend my days with this guy, and I’m just letting him go easy-peasey as I’m too concerned with covering my own ass rather than taking a risk and fighting for what I know is something special? He can’t bring himself to even talk to me on skype now, purely because he knows when he sees me he’ll give in and give me everything we both actually want. I genuinely don’t know what to do next. Do I settle for a friendship? Or stay around and see him, disregarding the ‘labels’ and just going with the flow and hoping he’ll realise what we share is too amazing to let go? Or, do I say ‘screw you – you have a missus’ and march off in my own high-heeled Choos? They say you don’t know someone until you walk a mile in their shoes…but I’ll be damned if I’m putting her pumps on and filling her missing space.
I can’t answer this one girls, I’m too involved in the project (so to speak!). I need someone from the outside looking in, with a clear head, to give me a direction. Do I stay on the single high-heeled Choos road or join her pumps line-up? As they say, “two’s company, three’s a crowd”…