Filed under: self indulgence
Not too long ago, a coworker at the hospital found a Buddha on the side of the road with both arms broken off. He later gave the figure to me. At times like now, I not only do my best to curb the tendency to want, but try to remember that succumbing to the inability to control circumstance may be the only way to tolerate uncertainty. Impotence is, at best, an uncomfortable feeling. For someone who thinks in terms of possibilities, chronically speculates, and plans as if it were a symptom of OCD… Being powerless is waterboarding for the mind.
Over the past six months, I have managed to disentangle myself from an identity that no longer serves me now that I am not accommodating my illness. No longer obsessed with embracing transience (relationship, mood, location, etc.), I’m starting to make progress in the direction of a suitable career, contributing to a cause that I care about, developing close relationships, taking better care of myself physically, and contemplating starting a family of my own. These goals are obtainable, and I’m obtaining them with an ease that I would have found impossible a few years ago.
I recently became involved in a long distance relationship. My first serious relationship since March of 2009. With every passing year — every passing relationship — I get closer to knowing not merely what I desire, but what I need. This person has the potential to be both. It is exciting, terrifying, and baffling.
When one sits down to conjure their perfect mate, they imagine his or her physical features, interests, personality, sexual proclivities, life goals, domestic compatibility, and so on. As a planner, I do this in extreme detail — almost to the extent that the standards would be impossible to satisfy. So, imagine my surprise when I came across someone who satisfies them extraordinarily well on paper. Even more surprising when there is mutual attraction.
He has obligations tying him in one city for the next few months, then will be abroad for a year. I have obligations here in Austin for the next two years. The timing lines up neatly; there’s even an active plan. Hoops to jump through. Compatibilities to test. If things go well over the next few months, we go on to the next six-month round of waiting and correspondence. Then another round. What happens at the end of that? How can I look forward and determine if waiting a year-and-a-half for a man I’ve known just seven weeks will be worthwhile?
The question, “What do you want?” has been volleyed. What I want is to settle down. I want to be done with school, in a career, married, and starting a family five years from now. I’m done with the restless period of my life, and I’m anxious to create something stable and satisfying. It’s a twisted game of Russian Roulette where no one wants to say, “If we get through the 18-month obstacle course, I think you’d be worth marrying.” That’s an insane thing to say to someone you’ve known for so short a time, and easy to misconstrue as an attempt to corner and capture them like big game. So in our delicate treatment of the subject, for fear of scaring the other person off with an extreme level of intensity, we’re circumventing the very discussion that needs to happen. Neither one of us would be involved in a long distance relationship if it weren’t for this perfect storm. I don’t know if it can wait to be discussed until he comes to visit in March, or if the revolver will go off before then.
Due to the nature of the relationship being a variable, any attempt to plan for two years from now is futile. All I can do is see him in March, again in six months, and then in a year to determine what will happen. The huge swaths of time between visits allow him ample time to decide it’s not worth the investment, or meet someone else, or simply tire of me. I’m deeply worried, feeling extremely vulnerable, and almost anticipating ultimate rejection. An equal low to match the high I’ve been feeling since I last saw him.
This is where Buddha comes in. There’s nothing to cling to yet. It hasn’t had a chance to solidify. I need to relax my grip and allow events to unfold as they may.
Or perhaps I just need a strong drink.
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