Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

In my family, we have a lot of sayings. Most were invented by my dad. Others are variations on a theme. Sometimes we just altered a more well-known saying to fit our family unit. The title of this post is one of them.

When I was a child we made candies in December. My mom got the recipe from one of her adult-class students. We made them every year. Even though we are not Christians (actually I was raised without a denomination at all) we still celebrated a secular Christmas. So we'd make the candies and say they were for New Year's, Channukkah, or Christmas depending on the faith of those in our neighborhood, and that of our family friends. Once they were done we'd hand deliver the closest and then all climb into the car. On places where we were supposed to go fast, we all stayed in the car and my mom took them up the porch steps. The theory being that with my dad behind the wheel and the four of us kids still waiting in the car it would get her to go faster. It didn't. She'd talk. My mom can talk forever. She can get other people to talk just as long by simply asking the right questions. At times, we were all out of the car talking but we'd make it back and my mom wouldn't. It was agonizingly slow to watch her cut the connection to the person we were there to see. Just when it seemed like she was getting away (one step back) she'd feel inclined to move (yes, two steps) forward.

Lately my life feels like that. I manage to make headway for a second. I'm coming to decisions & willing to tackle my issues when suddenly I'm back to where I started; without even knowing how I got there. Don't get me wrong, I'm very decisive and action oriented in certain aspects of my life. It's my darn romantic heart where I become a vacillating nincompoop!

Cases in point.

1. I realize I'm suffering from an old malady that I picked up in high school (unrequited love.) He's going from friend to flirty toucher to downright coming on to me (it's hard to mistake a naked penis for disinterest!) Thereby confusing the heck out of me. Are we friends or not? So I become determined to say or do something (unlike my pimply past ) to find out where we stand. When, lo and behold, the person in question blurts out something that lets me know that I'm not even in the running. He'd rather chart other territories. So I get to go back to the vast wasteland of buddydom.
2. Just when I decide I need more than a casual intimacy with a lover, who is more absent than around, he starts showing up. He starts calling daily and texting weekly, and he even begins fixing things around my house. Yet again confusing me. Are we (sorry for the profanity) fuck friends or is he wanting more or is he not? Some issues still remain. Where I've invited him into my life, and yes, he took a tiny dip into that wading pool by meeting my family, I'm only a visitor to his~ through conversations. No meetings with his family, whatsoever. And yes, I become afraid to change the status quo because at least I know what I get when I am with him. However, has that stopped being enough?
3. And the last step back? Going back with friends to catch up with another friend and finding that some things never change. Physically the chemistry is still there. The longing when you look at each other. Worst of all, the connection of thinking is still there, too. That being on the same wave length as someone else that is more erotic (at times) than sex.
However, this old flame scorched me to such a crisp that it took a great deal to get over it. He's the second reason I'm so nervous to take steps when it comes to romantic relationships. We met five years ago. I was still in a state of shell shock from a divorce that had been final for three years at that point and he was in love with two (other) women at the same time. Yeah, that was ripe for disaster. We came out of our coupling and finally, made it to a point where we could be friends. Platonic, long distance ones. I don't know that I trust myself to not wallow in that misery again as some sort of self-flagellating punishment that for some archaic reason I believe I deserve. So you can imagine how thrilled I was to go down (and back) there last night with others. (Designated driving can sometimes take it's toll .)

Yet a part of me is hopeful. I truly believe that it will all eventually work out to some satisfying end with all three. Or maybe I just wish someone new would come along and whisk me away from actually having to make a decision about it all. A different type of riding off into the sunset, to be sure.