He's Just Not That Into You?

Without a doubt, every woman- young or old- has heard this phrase at least once in their life. Goodness, there is even a book and movie that claim it as it's title and center around the complex relationship we weave in and out of on this planet. Unfortunately, for me, this is the exaggerated yet accurate description of my love life. Questions like this keep me up into the morning hours, wondering what in the goodness, gracious Earth is going on between me and some guy. Why can't their be a manual that lays down every questioning move a guy does and interprets it in a cute, color coded form- most likely typed in the cliche Curlz font- for times like this when my head is reeling and my heart is breaking? Because life is not meant to be easy, Catherine. So, I as I sit here in Starbucks like a pretentious poser, typing away on my Dad's borrowed laptop and sipping my iced mocha lite, I can't help but wonder....is he just not into me? 

The he, for the purpose of this post, will remain anonymous but is a real, real person, I assure you. And the me, sadly enough, is me. I'm the girl who's heart is in a limbo between breaking and happiness- unsure which way I will be pulled. Every move and word can be interpreted into a certain connotation, both positive or negative, and it's up to me and me alone to figure out which one is the truth. Luckily, I have my girls- K and Aim- who are trying to help me along the way but it's not always enough. Each couple- and I mean that as two individuals that are not strictly in a relationship as opposed to the traditional meaning- are unique as to how they communicate and relate in their relationship. What he might do with one girl, may be different for me- it's like the relative theory on dating. And, unlike the variables in calculus, they aren't easily applied to each relationship. So,I sit her trying to communicate each little move as it applies to me and him, no him and another girl or me and another guy or even the relationships that K and Aim have had. It's a lot harder than it sounds. Which brings me back to an earlier point- why can't their be a manual? Sure, their are Internet articles and the ever popular Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus book that have guided so many relation-less women towards a higher understanding of the opposite sex- but can it be applied to me? Or are we different? And how do some girls have this all figured out. We all know those girls that go from relationship to relationship, always able to find another guy. It's these girls that we all wish we were like. But, do even they have it figured out? Or do we just think that they do? Maybe they are as clueless as we are, but the dating odds are just in their favor. 

Now, you may be wondering where I am going with all of this. Honestly, I don't really know where I am going with all of this so I guess I'll start from the beginning. Luckily, I think the possibility of the him actually reading this is about a likely as me winning a million dollars so I think I'll be safe sharing all of this and it won't come back to bite me on the butt. Despite my apprehensions, or lack there of, I need to get this out some way and writing is my avenue. 

So, there is this guy. It's crazy to think of how many conversations I have begun with that same sentence but that's the only way I can begin this story. There is this guy that I have know for quite a while and I have always had an interest in him, romantically. Way back when, we had a short lived, teenage relationship that inevitable failed, but I have always had some sort of interest in him. I can't pin point what the interest was about, whether is be an attraction to his personality, or the way he made me fell or the fact that I find him the most attractive man I have ever met, it's always been there. I have dated other guys but in between my failed relationships, my thoughts have always returned to him. It's like he's the flame and I'm the moth- I'm drawn to him. 

After a few years of pursuing a failed potential relationship with him, I eventually decided that it's not going to happen- that ship as sailed. But, it were those moments where I thought I was out that he would come swooping in.

Lauren Conrad gets me. But that's honestly how it goes. I leave one little happy birthday message on a Facebook wall and suddenly I'm at a midnight movie with the guy I swore off. How does that happen?

In hindsight, maybe I shouldn't have gone because then I wouldn't be here, questioning what is and isn't going on. But, coulda, woulda, shoulda. So, I went to this midnight movie with him, the guy of my affection and attraction for years and had a fabulous time and he hugged me and told me he wanted to hang out again and left me at my car with more questions then when I went in with. 
I thought that maybe I was getting my chance that I had been pining for for years. He wanted to see me again. He hugged me. Maybe I charmed and smiled enough for him to actually want to see me again. I tried to be the most charming Catherine I could be and maybe it had finally worked! All of my bad relationship luck had to pay of sometime, maybe this was it. So, I was high of the euphoric feeling that things were going my way until evey attempt to hang out during the winter break was met with a dead end. Maybe he didn't really want to hang out with me, maybe it was all in my head. It certainly made sense, he was goregous and interesting and I'm just Catherine who sucks at life and love. This was just who we are. 
So, I set my sights on getting over him again and he didn't make it easy for me. I would get twitter favorites and Facebook likes that would set my mind reeling my fingers texting to my besties for interpretation. The most confusing this came around Valentine's day with a comment (regarding my love life) on a Facebook tag post I did and that was he took down within 20 minutes- K, counted.  Could it be that he thought I would think it was mean OR was he showing me his metaphorical hand? Maybe I'll never know. 
Nevertheless, the world went on and I tried to move on. Moving on would have been easier if I had someone to move on with, but that was not the case for me. I told myself what I had told myself before- "He's not into you", "he's not interested" and the every popular "It's never going to happen." In fact, I think that I have a better chance at dating the cute baseball player from my last post that ever getting a chance with this guy again- and I mean that in all honesty. 

Determined and quite used to the routine, I  was getting over him. I didn't check his Facebook or Twitter, I didn't care- he and I were only two people living on the same planet and nothing more. I even tried to develop a friends with benefits relationship -for me, that only means kissing- with a hot guy friend that would never date me to help with the physical relationship withdraws that I was having 
Then he texted me. One night, when I was finally happy and my phone was dead, he decided that he wanted to watch a movie and wondered if I want to join. All of the damage control I had done over the pass months was undone with a little text message. Maybe I never truly put up the walls that I need to. I used 2 x 4s and wood glue where clearly concrete blocks and cement were needed. 
 I couldn't hang out with him that night, I was nearly two hours away and not at home for the weekend since I stared school Monday. But my rejection to his invitation didn't stop him from carrying on a conversation until 1 the next morning- even though I tried to go to bed. 
I couldn' t help but wonder what had brought this all on. Had he wanted to try to see me for months but he couldn't until now due to his work schedule and living hours away? Or was he just trying to use me for my extensive DVD collection? I affixated on the first, assured that I was what he wanted and not my extended edition copy of Return of the King. 
We talked the next night, instigated by me, for almost 3 hours. The conversation seemed as effortless as the night before. I even think he was pausing his video game to talk to me and I'm told that  that means something. Was this going to be my life now? Would he and I spend the nights texting then slowly edging into talking on the phone? I hoped so. We might be separated by hundred of miles but I think we both have good long distance cell plans and unused minutes, I could have worked. And I wanted it to. I thought that maybe this was my time, that God had may our possible relationship wait until the opportune moment for both of us. Even the shuffle on my iPod seemed a lot more optimistic- Don't Worry Baby seemed to played more than normal. Even I seemed more opened and optimistic about love and relationships and I'm a cynical, realist that is sure that I'm not getting married.  
The boy of my interest for a decade finally acted like he wanted to see me and by George was I going to make sure we got to hang out at least once before he left. 
After nearly two weeks after his first instigation, we finally did hang out. And I screwed it all up. Glad to see that I haven't lost my old ways at ruining any chance for happiness with him. 
He came over to my nearly bare, on the market house and we watched a movie. Well, we sorta watched a movie- he was too busy checking his fantasy football league on his cell phone while I was text K and Aim so I didn't see like a lifeless loser. This was not at all how I expected it to go. In my mind, we would talk and laugh and all but forget about the movie. He would try his best just to touch my hand or arm and every time he did, I was smile, never looking at him and, at the end of the night, we would have a romantic Hollywood goodbye and leave with a promise of doing it again sometime soon. But that's the thing about expectations- they hardly every match up with reality. 
Now, don't get me wrong, we did talk and laugh and was had a serious conversation that may me realize that I just wasn't physically attracted to him, I was attracted to who he was. And I thought maybe I was getting to him, in a good way. He was give me these little side ways glances and bring up our past relationship even as far as to ask me what perfume I wore when we were together because he remembered it. But there were times where I felt clueless as to what I should say or do next and ten minute long stretches of silent that may me wonder if his possible interested was only in my head. 
And the fact that he look impeccable good didn't help either. I think I had forgotten he could look in a t-shirt and his arms were.....well, I let you imagine how good his arms looked. 
The night wasn't as awkward as I thought it would have been but it wasn't as comfortable and easy as I had hoped it would have been. I guess it was whatever a medium between the two would be...awkwortable? 
Now that the movie was over, there was one this we had to do- say goodbye. Like a good little girl, I walked him to his car, in the dark since my outside lights must be out. He told me that he had a good time and that we should do it again. I expected him to say something like this, I had heard it the last time we had hung out and I just figured it was a line, like telling someone that you should get coffee sometime but both understanding that it's never going to happen. But, they came what I was waiting for- the goodnight hug. Would he go one arm, or two arms? Would he try to kiss me? This hug could tell me where I was with him. He reached out an arm- just one- and me and my awkward nervous state said "umm, do you want a one arm hug or two". Surprisingly after my stupid question, we had a two arm hug. And it felt perfect. I felt like I perfectly fit into his arms, which were wrapped tightly around me. I fit in his nook, with my face against his chest, cheek against she soft t-shirt that he was wearing and my arms wrapped around his back. I could feel his back muscles through his shirt. I don't know how tight he was hold me, but I think I was holding him pretty tight. And I can't seem to care. If this was all I was going to get, I might as well make it good. But, when we finally let go, however long that was, I made sure to go ahead and ruin it by saying that it was a little awkward. It was like word vomit spewing out of my mouth. Seriously, could my brain shut up for one second and let me enjoy my only contact with a man in 3 years? 
He replied "Awkward? We are friends, aren't we." It amazing how five little words can break your castle of hope and friend zone you. And we all know that once we go into the friend zone, the possibility of getting out is slim to none. Yes, I want to be his friend. Friendship is kinda a precursor to any sort of romantic relationship. In all actuality, what I want in a future mate is a best friend that I make out with. But I don't want to just be his friend forever. 
I told him that it's always going to be a little awkward with him thought I didn't expound as to why. He didn't need to know that the awkwardness was fueled by the fact that I still find him extremely attractive, thought he knows that I do after last night, and I enjoyed our hug a little too much. 

I went into my house angry at myself for ruining my only chance with him- I'm still angry truth be told. I texted K who proceeded to try to calm me down by assuring me that it probably wasn't as bad as I thought it was and to sleep on it, maybe things would look different in the morning. They didn't. Instead, I've been on the verge of tears all day, knowing fully that it's over- I had a chance and I ruined it. I even tried to see what he was thinking by sending his a quick text telling him that I had fun and thanking him for hanging out and jokingly say that hopefully it won't be 9 months before we can hang out again. What I got in return was a short, seven word response and a lost hope. 

So, there's my sad sob story of desperation and despair. Do I love him? No. Do I even like him in a romantic way? No...maybe. I don't know him well enough to say either way. But I do feel something for him, whether it be like or lust (not sin lust, physical attraction) that keeps me interested in him. Maybe I just was to be like we were when we dated, I was happy then and he's a good kisser. Honestly, I don't think I would ever know until he and I tried a relationship again. And now, I have blown that chance so I'll probably never know. 

Girls, learn from me, please.  My heart can be broken, it's actually gotten used to it. But I would never wish that upon anyone else. 

Love to all-
Catherine

Fangirling: I think I'm Doing it Wrong

In case you haven't noticed yet, I am a semi-professional fangirl. I'm only semi-professional because I am also a college student and teachers feel like my time is better spent reading boring textbooks than cyberstalking my favorite celebrities to find their favorite flavor of ice cream. Go figure. 
Now, the basic timeline of a fan girl is as follows:
First, the discovery- The fangirl (me) discovers a new television show/ movie/ book series/ actor and looks them up using whatever search engine she (me) deems useful.
Second,  the first exposure- After the discovery, the fangirl either watches a few episodes, movies, YouTube videos (containing the new actor) in fair moderation, slowly edging into the complex world of the fandom. It's like getting into a cold swimming pool, you slowly get in and get used to the crazy, I mean water.  
Thrid, the obsession- Through a climatic turn of events, every waking moment is suddenly spend reading or watching about the new obsession. This is the driving force that challenges you to walk all three seasons in two days. If you run out of things to watch, that's okay- there is always YouTube and fan made videos to fuel your desire. But you don't stop there. You constantly try to insert your new obsession into day to day conversations. Sometimes it works. Other times, they stare at you like you have a second head. But you don't care, you are blissfully in love with such and such and can't see their looks of confusion and concern. 
Fourth, the lifestyle- Your fangirling obsession becomes part of you life. Your parents may learn the name of your new actor obsession since you keep talking about the obsessively like you actually know them. (I'll admit that both my mother and little sister know that when I say Ben I mean Ben Barnes) This stage gets quite confusing when you become obsessed with a show like Doctor Who and you have to deal with the 9th, 10th and 11th Doctor who are the same character but each contain a different personality and are played by a different actor who you each love differently. You obsession is intergrated into the world of your other obsessions, each having their own place in your mixed up world of fangirling. 
Fifth, the come down- After an extent time in the lifestyle phase, you slowly start backing off your obsession- spending less time watching videos or reading Wikipedia entries and Fanfiction. You never stop loving your new obsession, but life does get in the way and you sometimes can't devote the time you want to your new love. 
Sixth and finally, the relapse- Every so often, you will fall back into the obsessive fan girl stages of two and three, like you are rediscovering them for the first time all over again. This usually occurs before season premieres and movie/book releases or news about your actor. Relapses are completely normal.

Now, why am I telling you the different phases of fangirling? Well, it's because I have a new fangirl obsession that is completely unorthodox....baseball. Yes, I, Catherine, Queen of the Fangirls, love baseball. 

Who doesn't like baseball pants?

In all fairness, I didn't just discover baseball. In fact, I have like it for many years, I grew up a Braves fan, but I never had the desire to curl up on a couch and watch a game. Instead, my baseball viewing was limited to my little brothers varsity games-he graduated high school 4 years ago- and a few live Braves games. That's it. But, that all changed a few weeks ago. *Cue dramatic lightening*
I was a usually sunny afternoon in July. I was upstairs studying when suddenly a thirst of immeasurable proportions engulfed my throat. Unable to stand it, I vacated my solitude of study in search for a glass of cool, refreshing water to ease my suffering. As I passed through the living room....I saw him. He was standing on first base, adjusting his batting gloves, trying to catch his breath. He had just hit his first major league hit, but you would have never known it- his face gave away nothing of happiness or pride, just undeniable handsomeness.
He was the cutest baseball player I had ever seen, despite the fact that I couldn't see his hair. My initial quest slipped my mind, my thoughts were only filled with the cute baseball player on first. I stood there, mouth open, trying to catch his name. I caught an inkling of one, the gist of his first and last, but my ears hear it wrong with my mind focused on him. 
Determined to play it cool, I got my glass of water but lingered a little longer than usual on my journey back through the living room hoping to catch another glance of the baseball boy who took my breath away. My glance was met with disappointment, disappointment and a commercial- probably the one for the pocket hose. 
I all freventness, I google his supposed name. But I was met with an unanswered inquiry and and a heavy heart. I turned back to my books, never forgetting the cute boy on first. 
Two days later, I did something I had never done before- I turned on the Braves game. I grabbed the remote and pushed the channel up button to a place I had never ventured before, passed the style and and E! network to the thousand and one sports channels my cable provider thinks we should have. I went back to the activity at hand, making dinner, but I kept listening for the beautiful boys name. I caught a few plays between chopping and shucking, enough to surprise my little brother and father with a play by play when they got home. After dinner, I even sat down to watch the rest of the game and , finally, I caught his name. It was like music to my ears and I couldn't wait to sneak away upstairs to google his name in true fangirl fashion. When I did finally sneak away, nothing sweeter than typing his name into a google search bar, though I probably spelled it wrong, and hitting send. There is was, the baseball player who had plagued my mind layed out to me in cyber form. I knew his stats, his college and his batting average all accompanied with a picture in a simply click. I also found his ice-breaking music video that left me and my brother laughing. Ah, I was enamored. 
The next day, my family left for vacation and I started DVRing baseball games to fast forward later for glimpses of the baseball player. Night after night, I taped baseball games and read complicated stats online- first of him but soon other players. I learned their names, numbers and positions, picking out my favorites not based on looks but on talent. 
A few days later I had to join my family on vacation, but my fangirling had to be fed somehow. So I finally began using my Sportscenter app, giving my Dad and brother game play by plays in the middle of Walt Disney World and draining my battery in the process. My littler brother, who found this all humorously endearing, didn't mind answering my questions with a knowing smirk, no doubt happy to be sharing one of his loves with his passionate sister. He taught me what a balk was at dinner and discussed the Nationals with me in line. For a mindless vacation, I learned a lot. 
When the baseball player got optioned tot he minors, I downloaded the minor league app to follow him. Now, two apps occupied my time in lines and deplete my battery. And I decided that I had to go to a game, quickly employing my best friend and partner in fangirl crime to accompany me. 
When I got home and he got called back up, the taping began again but, this time, I watched the whole game. Game after game I watched, not just to see the baseball player, but to watch the group of talented, athletic men play a sport that I had rediscovered my appreciation of. Even tonight I interrupted this post to spend three hours curled up in the couch watching the Braves beat the Mets. This passed weekend, I attended my first major league game since high school and had an amazing time despite the fact that my baseball player wasn't there. I was on a fan girl high, pure excitement to see the team I had come to love play and win! 
I was, I am a fan and, most importantly, I'm a fangirl. I only wish I had discovered this love earlier in the season so that I could have may more games, but I will take advantage of the time in the season and post season that I have left and make more trips to Atlanta, where the players play. Maybe I'll even run into my baseball player and hopefully I won't fangirl all over him because that's not attractive, no siree. But who cares either way, I'm going to another game! 

Though, I really do want to see him- he's so CUTE!

Well, there's my latest fangirl obsession. It's strange, but I don't care- I love it. And, hey, it's probably healthier than most obsessions...it encourages me to go outside, sorta. 

I hope you enjoyed this and found it as fun and entertaining as I had writing it. If you have any suggestions for future post, leave them below! 

*Catherine Note* The baseball player's name was specifically left out in case said baseball player ever finds this then maybe he won't think I'm crazy...okay, maybe a little crazy but in a cute, adorable Zooey Deschanel way.

All my love and play ball-
Catherine XX

*Another unrelated note* For those who read and even enjoyed my Ben Barnes post a few weeks ago, have I got a treat for you. I have discovered another song sung by the gorgeous Ben that might seriously have you in tears from its beauty. Seriously, this is the most beautiful song ever- beautiful enough to make stone cherubims come to life and cry because they will never be this beautiful. It just won't happen. Nope.

Seriously, the only way this could be better is if he was singing it to you in person.