I have a confession to make: dating makes me uncomfortable. First dates and all their akwardness are fine, but the actual dating phase — one person, multiple dates — really throws me off my game. Dating is weird. I’m not used to this whole ‘get to know a stranger and see if you like them,’ routine. Granted, my usual method of developing fatally misguided crushes (like the married guy I pined over at the office for months on end) are not what you would call ‘healthy.’ In fact, I probably chose woefully unavailable men in the past because it was safe. I could have all the feels with none of the risk.
Now that I’m doing things the
normal other way, dating an available person who seems to be interested in me, the commitmentphobic crazyperson in my brain is threatening to take over. I don’t have a lease. In fact, I’ve never lived anywhere I couldn’t leave with two months’ notice. I don’t own anything substantial that I couldn’t either sell or pack. Long-term anything causes a rising panic and a tightening in my chest. In fact, just writing that sentence has made me more than a little anxious.
I’m sure there are all sorts of reasons behind this fear (my parents 10 marriages, the fact that I haven’t had a successful adult relationship, the boogeyman), but the end result is the same: I am on the ledgiest ledge that ever ledged.
I’m going on date four with the guy I met at the mixer, and things are going well. Too well, in fact. I am so used to things not working out (as pointed out by a wise friend), I don’t know what to do when everything is fine. My brain goes into this commitment panic spiral and I start to freak out.
I’ve been on my own for so long, the idea of anything else terrifies me. The crazy part (I know, it’s all crazy) is that this is what I’ve been looking for. I actually want something to come out of all this insanity. Luckily, I have the help of friends, alcohol, and this blog to sort through everything.