Tonight, I had a really nice conversation with that guy who’s back in my life.
(Should I come up with a nickname for him a la MySpazz 2008?)
Somehow, this conversation got into deep water pretty quickly. It sort of started last night, when he couldn’t sleep. It was funny because we had a similar conversation a few weeks ago, when we started talking again.
Basically, he’s been wondering things about his life. That whole, while my life is awesome, this isn’t the life I signed up for thing. He had a hard time expressing what he really meant. We talked for a while last night, and then we chatted off and on today. I kept him company on his long exodus to and from somewhere in Canada.
On his drive back home, he asked me about my thoughts on kids.
We’ve actually talked about this somewhat. In fact, our first convo since talking again involved us pledging to have children together should we not find our soulmates by age ___. Ha. I was sorta joking, sorta not.
Anyway, without going into details, he asked me some specifics about things. Important specifics–because that’s who he is. And we started talking about our childhoods and relationships with parents. And just things we never really talked about before. And oddly, one of the things I expressed was the exact thing that had been troubling him–that he couldn’t express. We just instantly connected on all of it–especially that part. It was kind of awesome. It was weird, too, because of who I am. Not having parents, a lot of the time, I feel really alone about some things. Like certain things really tug at me and most people have no idea. Turns out, despite him having both his parents, he totally gets it.
We fit so well, sometimes. It’s odd because one of the reasons I broke up with him before was because we were so different. I thought we were doomed because we didn’t like the same music. We have so many differences in tastes. But now, I realize we basically want the same things in the long-term–the important things–something that’s rarely been true for my significant others–and something I didn’t realize about him. And I figured out why he’s always felt so familiar to me. It’s not just shared culture. It’s how we were raised–how we see the world–what we really value. We get each other at a heart level.
We started talking about other things we value–like being able to balance a relationship while maintaining our own identities. I call this being able to be alone together. Sharing some things, but keeping things separate too. I realize now that all those differences–those things that drove me crazy before–actually make our relationship interesting and make this aspect of our relationship more realistic. We’re our own people, and that’s a great thing.
We also talked about first impressions. How I told him when I first met him that I never know when guys like me–that they have to hit me over the head. He reminded me that, right after, he told me he should find a stick.
I laughed so hard when he told me I came across as this confident woman who knew what she wanted and how hot he thought I was. He said it gave him the confidence to talk to me.
It’s funny because I struggled with confidence so much back then, and he saw me through all of it. It’s nice to know he still does.