When Life Gives You Lemons...

I met Eric today. He's the kind, cheerful man who cleans my building and takes my garbage out. He was cleaning the stairs as I was lugging my all-season tires down to my storage area and I mentioned how lovely and lemony it smelled.

Eric and I have never spoken. I've lived here for a year and a half and we've done no more than politely nod in passing. But today something about that lemon scent prompted me to speak and, perhaps equally motivated by the citrus, prompted him to respond. We talked for a good five minutes before he invited me for a tour of the empty apartment above me.

I've been curious about that place since I moved in. From the street outside, it looks amazing. Plus, it's double my rent, so it's got to be rather spectacular. I didn't even have to ask, Eric could just tell I wanted to see it. And it was beautiful. I can see why the person who will rent that place will be more than willing to pay twice as much.

Thing is, as I walked away from the apartment today I wasn't thinking about the master bedroom with two entrances ("One for you and one for the boyfriend," Eric says) or the living room with a fireplace and huge windows overlooking the street (newly installed)... I was thinking about what a shame it is that today is the first day that Eric and I have ever spoken.

In my heart, I am a person who knows my neighbours. I am a person who values community and who wants to live in harmony with the world. I am a person who knows the name of my bus driver and my mail carrier and the man who cleans my building. I'm realizing more and more that my life really needs to do some changing in order to reflect my heart...

Talking it Out

I met his family on Friday night, and he introduced me as a friend of his and his sister's. It kinda felt bad, but he's been very clear that that's basically what we are right now. He's definitely not going to say, "this is my pen pal that I kiss sometimes when I see her..."

His family is lovely, especially his father. His dad treated me like I was important. You know the difference in the way parents normally treat you when you're just a friend, versus how they treat you when you're introduced as a girlfriend? Well, his dad treated me like I was a person. Like I mattered. He stood up to shake my hand. He looked me in the eye. I liked it.

Still, it's been bothering me recently, the slowness of our relationship, mostly because I don't behave this way with my friends. This is not a friend relationship. It's just not.

So we talked about it last night. I don't know how to explain it to you in a way that will convince you that everything's okay while still respecting the privacy of the conversation, but suffice it to say that I'm satisfied. And he agreed that I shouldn't have any doubt about whether or not he wants me in his life. And we're still going to take things slowly, and I think that's actually probably a really good idea. And I'm pretty happy.

He calls me Lady... I totally like that...

Go Big or Go Home

When love (or even like) is new, you can't get enough, right? I think that's right, but I'm beginning to doubt myself...

I'm in a thing. It's new-ish and nice, but it's slow getting going. At first I was fine with that, but I'm not so sure anymore, and here's why: I think I have a complex. I have this deeply ingrained fear that it's pretty difficult to love me. Or, at the very least, that it's quite easy to stop loving me. I don't tell you this as an attempt to get you to convince me of the contrary. I tell you this because this is my blog, and I have to be honest on my blog.

At the beginning, slow was nice. I didn't want to rush anything. So we'd see each other, and then maybe we wouldn't see each other again for a week or so, but we'd text in-between, and everything was fine. But that's still happening. It's been over a month, and we're still only seeing each other at most once a week. And when we see each other it's lovely and we text daily and that's nice, but I'm beginning to feel that maybe he's just not that anxious to have me in his life.

Yes, he's got reasons to be busy. Good reasons at that. But when I'm smitten, reasons are nothing. I make time. Is that weird? Are normal people this laid back about starting a relationship? Because right now I feel more like a pen pal than a potential girlfriend.

And the fact that that bothers me makes me feel needy. And I hate the idea that I might be one of those needy girls. And I wish he'd just love me or hate me and get this halfway business out of the way.

I guess I'm an all or nothing girl. It works well for me when I'm in a relationship, but it's making this weekly romance thing a bit awkward...