When Reality Intrudes

The veil has been pierced; today, for the first time, I heard from someone who stumbled across my blog and realized that he knew me. (This is cool and yet a little disconcerting — so much for anonymity.) He and I went on a couple of dates early last month before he had to return to grad school up in Buffalo. We had a good time together, so — *waving* — hey there, up in Buffalo!

The Guy

Tonight I talked on the phone with The Guy (since that seems to be the name he’s taken on). I chatted him up and asked him how his weekend went. He told me; there was sex involved in his weekend activities. But strangely, this didn’t bother me as much as I’d thought it would — basically because he didn’t have sex with, or even meet up with, a person of whom I’d been particularly envious — a self-described “straight frat boy” who apparently had really good-looking photos. Instead, he described the people whom he met up with, and they weren’t descriptions of people I’d have been interested in. I guess it’s like if someone has a really good sandwich, and I want some, but then I realize the sandwich has lots of mayonnaise on it; suddenly the sandwich doesn’t seem as big a deal. (I really dislike mayonnaise.) This kind of makes me wonder — was I envious of him, or of the sandwich — I mean, of the people he had sex with? I don’t know. But I suspect more and more that this isn’t about him as much as it’s about me. And hey, that makes sense, because it’s my blog, and I can cry if I want to.

Furthermore, there’s this guy in another city whom he’s been interacting with online for several weeks, and he says he might be interested in a relationship with that guy. And for some reason this doesn’t make me envious, either, because he’s described this guy, and he has certain qualities I wouldn’t want in a romantic partner. So again — of whom am I envious? This really has to do with me and my insecurities. I know I seem to refer to my insecurities at least three times a week in this blog, but that’s because they have a big hold over me. On the outside, though, I’ve been told I’m kind of a friendly, charming guy (albeit a little shy), so I must hide my insecurities well.

I’m writing this from a friend’s place in central New Jersey. I needed to get away from my urban surroundings, so I took the New Jersey Transit train down here, and I’m staying here overnight. It’s quiet here, unlike my place, where the walls are thin and I can hear every footstep that someone makes in an adjacent apartment. And he has a puppy! She’s a cute little yellow lab, and she’s always so excited to see me. She’s really adorable.

Tonight my friend and I went out to dinner, and then we rented a movie — Keeping the Faith, starring Ben Stiller, Edward Norton and Jenna Elfman. For some reason this movie slipped beneath my radar when it first came out; I thought it was terrific. And Edward Norton is such a cutie.

My friend has a washer and dryer, so I’m doing my laundry, which has desperately needed to be done. And it’s a whole lot cheaper doing it here than going to a laundromat.

At dinner, I was talking with my friend about the situation with the guy. My friend told me that I can’t impose a double standard, of course — and of course he’s right. But it still smarts to know that the guy is sleeping with other people this weekend; at one point last night, when I was home alone, I was thinking that at that very moment, he was probably in bed with someone. I could of course be wrong — maybe he was out with a friend or something — but anyway, it doesn’t really matter what I think in this situation, does it? After all, it’s his life.

We human beings are an interesting species. We can think, and on top of that — and simultaneously — we can think about our thinking process. So on one level, I feel jealous, and yet on a higher level, I know that those feelings are pointless and that there are reasons why I feel the way I do.

Am I intellectualizing my emotions? Or am I emotionalizing my intellect? Or both?

I should be a therapist.