hey, i’m in a relationship. what now?
20 February 2012 § 3 Comments
Question for women: how important is it for you to be known to a new significant other’s world – that is, to his family and friends, regardless of what they mean to him, or how often he is in contact with them?
Now, context: I’m a relatively private person, and don’t care much for what people in my world – in my life – think of what I’m doing, where I am, who I’m with, etc. I don’t see it as much of their business, mostly because of how disconnected I am from them. (Though I will grant them this: I have created this disconnect myself, at no fault of theirs but being subject to an era where information is everything and everywhere, i.e. facebook).
I would much rather tell someone over a phone call or, at the very least, an email about what’s going on, and what’s going on with me. Perhaps because I’ve given much to my connections over the years and never received much back, and now I’m exacting a miniature revenge on my loved ones. Status updates and profile changes, for some reason just don’t cut it for me. How evil and inconsiderate is that?
What I understand from Heather – My New Girlfriend – and other women, nevertheless, is that in order to feel special, to feel through action instead of merely words that they mean, that an active acknowledgement, in some form, would be appropriate, if indeed I want to pursue a relationship? And what would that action mean? Mentioning it to the people I am in contact with most often makes the most sense to me, but is this enough? Is the relationship status on facebook really that important?
The next logical argument might be, Sean, what’s your problem, man – if you like her and want to be with her, why not just tell people, or short of that, why make a big deal out of her request for acknowledgement? If it’s not that important to you, then why not just do it?
I’d hate to break out the “because I want to know WHY it’s so important” reply, not because it either 1) works, 2) makes me seem deep, or 3) drives people up the wall, but rather because it’s something that I don’t understand, and would like to. I don’t have a pressing need to be known to her world, and have no problem if she doesn’t say anything about me to anyone: our connection is between us, and the only time it includes others is in the immediate present (and we’re traveling, or rather at the moment, living in a small town, with an even smaller community of ex-pats and good friends, so that’s quite understandable). Therefore, outside of that immediate present, what do I need from the rest of her world? Nothing, really.
Maybe because she’s way out of my league and I still don’t quite get why she’s sticking around for me. Of all the non-committal, whimsical, aloof and indecisive people she could choose from, she picked the best one from all of the above.
So here I am, relishing in her presence and the selfish thought of what kind of person I can improve into by being around her and her hard questions, by having a person to bounce my ideas off without the ten pages of scrawling it might take otherwise (and likely not even then) to clarify. I write less around her, of my own unfortunate accord, and she limits nothing in me that I do not limit myself to. But I do not slip into my oldself as often, and I’m thankful for that. A year ago, I was coming to terms with surviving, feeding off the energy of THC and revolution, and now I’m doing everything I’ve set in motion, going to places, once again, that I never thought I’d go, speaking other languages, and even feeling productive and *gasp* happy sometimes.
Once again, an adventure I’m not sure I’m ready for. Here we go.
(As a sidenote, I introduced my good friend Ed Gish, an 83-year-old, oldschool Hollywood writer, to Buddy Wakefield’s performance poetry today, and he cried. I’m proud of myself for that.)