Medic Alert

I haven't written too much lately about the Medic, if for no other reason than I really haven't the foggiest idea how to properly relay what is unfolding in my life. But since I don't have any other nonsense to blog about at the moment...I'm going to try.

So far, in my effort to LET. IT. BE. I have managed to be both a wild success and a complete failure all at once. I know...you're amazed at my talent. (Sometimes I astound even myself.)

Up to now, I have done a stellar job at playing the proverbial cool card. There has been little to no drama, and the relationship, whatever it is, has been very calming and enjoyable. It has also been shockingly consistent from the onset, which is nice. I've discovered that The Medic is very much a creature of habit. He wakes up, texts me, eats, lifts weights, runs, and gets ready for work. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. (Or at least, every single day that I've been in his life....so I'm assuming it's safe to say that with the exception of "texts me" his day looked pretty much the same before I came along.) This is new to me. Everyone has a general routine, but my life over the past few years has been alarmingly INCONSISTENT. I never really knew what to expect or what might be lurking around the next corner. And to top all of that off, I never really knew what my emotions would be in response to whatever happened to be lurking around the next corner. It was exhausting at best.

All that adds up to a unanimous vote on the "All those in favor of Me Calming the Heck Down" motion.

However, I have had my moments. Just because I'm managing to be ok with "whatever this is" doesn't mean that I haven't spent an insane amount of energy stuck in "Ok, so really...what is this" mode. All those who have gotten an earful...say "I" quietly to yourself, because you love me and, let's face it, you knew fair and square what you were getting into by being my friend.

I really am having a difficult time figuring this whole thing out. It's still pretty new, and I'm enjoying everything about it except for the looming "what are we" question. I think it's the fear that accompanies that question that is really the problem. The Medic and I have danced briefly around this issue twice, and both times I learned more about his past and his fears than I was prepared to. As it turns out, he's a much deeper individual than I gave him credit for, and as a result the general theme in our plan of action is "Proceed with Caution." This is all well and good, but it does absolutely nothing to quell my insane need to make things make sense how I want them to make sense....something that I continue to "therapize" myself on.

And to further the frustration...my cover is blown. The Medic has managed to unearth the facts that I am neither "laid back" OR "put together" as I would have liked for him to believe. I think he really caught on at some point during the last two weeks. But he hit his point home last night with the following conversation:

Him: Did you know that you can't really hide anything?

Me: Yes I can. Why do you say that?

Him: You make faces. They give it away.

Me: (Indignantly) What faces!? I don't make faces!

Him: Yes you do. There's the "Explain" face when you crinkle up your nose and it makes that funky wrinkle in between your eyebrows. It means that you either didn't like or didn't agree with what I just said and you're expecting me to "explain." You're making it right now.

Me: Oh. (uncrinkling my brow...) And what's the other face?

Him: The "She's thinking about something" face. You purse your lips to the right and your cheek puffs up. You make this one alot.

Me: (trying really hard not to crinkle my brow or puff my cheek to the side, and finding it hard to be successful at either...) How come you don't have faces?

Him: I just say what I think.

What a concept! So then we go back to watching a horrible movie that one of his coworkers bootlegged...

Five Minutes Later...

Him: Your cheek is poked out.

Me: (Quickly yanking my traitorous cheek back to attention...) No it's not.

And THAT is MY version of LETTING. IT. BE.