Day 112: Lars, And Life On Mars

Navigating any relationship in sobriety is pretty tough for me, but, especially when it comes to Lars.

I made a lot of promises to myself about romantic relationships when I split with my ex. And, then, I made even more when I got sober.

What’s pretty incredible about Lars, is that he’s pretty incredible. And, I’ve been able to combat my sometimes piss poor relationship defaults pretty well. All those promises I made? I’ve kept them. And, that’s huge. So huge that it’s almost unbelievable. And, as time goes on and things move forward, I’m starting to wonder: When’s the shit gonna hit the fan?

There it is. My fucking fatalist thinking. This sense of impending doom. The negative self-thinking and self-talk that begs the question: How’d you get this lucky? You know there’s a catch right? It’s bound to happen. So, don’t get too comfortable.

This negative thinking and talking, it results in two things: Holding back and actively looking for problems in the relationship. And, these two things destroy relationships. This, I know. Yet, little by little it’s starting to happen. Thanks to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and my treatment center, I’m totally aware, but, I’m still having that problem of doing something to change. Action.

It’s fear. Totally. 100%. No doubt in my mind. But, facing that fear means being vulnerable. And, I’m just not sure I can do that yet. So, I’ve been telling myself that I’ll wait for Lars to make himself vulnerable, and then, then I’ll put my shit on the table. But, here’s the thing, he has already made himself vulnerable. He’s made himself vulnerable, available, helpful, understanding, patient, and on and on and on. So, it kinda puts the ball in my court. But, I’m just not sure how hard I should hit it back.

He’s made me feel incredible. He has said every kind and adoring thing that you’d want a boyfriend to say short of ‘I Love You.’ And, there it is folks. There’s the thing. Love. The ultimate vulnerability. That word, that concept, that infinite greatness that changes the whole game.

I’ve stopped and wondered, is that really what I want to hear? Do I want Lars to love me? Do I want to love Lars back? Do I already love Lars? It’s silly, because I already know all the answers to these questions. Now, it becomes the question of answering them, for Lars. Because, there’s this little piece of me that knows he’s put so much on that line that it’s me who’s going to have to step out on the line. That tight rope, whereon lies my ultimate fear: Falling off.

Thinking about Lars is like thinking about life on another planet. A scary and unknown landscape, but one that I desperately want to explore. But, it’s a commitment. And, rather than commit, my alcoholic mind turns it into an existential crisis. I’m sitting in a Starbucks right now. And, if you could hear the soundtrack of my life as I write this post, you’d laugh your ass off. I didn’t think I’d ever be starring in a Woody Allen film, especially one set in Portland, fucking Oregon.

So, what’s the deal? Why am I making love, this thing that at it’s core is really the most simplistic human need and emotion, so fucking complicated? Why can’t I just say it, if I in fact feel it? Alcoholics Anonymous says that fear sprouts up from one of two seeds: You fear you’ll lose something you have, and, you fear that you won’t get something you desire.

So, there it is. The Catch 22 of Lars. Perhaps losing him in pursuit of having him. Or so my mind tells me. Truly though, I know that anything worth having, is worth putting myself out there on the line.

So, maybe it’s time that I put out into the universe what it is I feel, whatever the outcome. Who knows, I may get to land on a whole new planet.

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