Southern Blues

I met OleMiss 3 years ago in Boston. He was a craigslist date. A simple dinner turned into an amazing friendship.

I know you were expecting me to tell you we hooked up, but I was actually dating ex-boyfriend (who wasn't boyfriend quite yet). Since I'm afraid of relationships, I purposely kept myself available... yet unavailable.

We kept hanging out, bringing in our respective friends. Finally the tension reached its peak, and I chose ex-boyfriend. My friends loved OleMiss. I knew he was great, but I was a chicken and chose ex-boyfriend because I knew it ultimately wouldn't last.

OleMiss wasn't happy, but he decided that a friendship was more important. We remained awesome friends, and I guess I did spend more time with him than I did with ex-boyfriend.

Two months after we decided to be friends, OleMiss got an amazing job offer in NYC and off he went. I was sad to see him go, but I was also happy for him because his ultimate dream is to make it on Wall St.

We kept in touch regularly through instant messenger. Ex-boyfriend finally became ex-boyfriend and I turned to OleMiss. Not so much for comfort, but actually for laughs and fun. I even hopped the cheap Greyhound bus and went for a visit.

We hooked up. (I knew you were waiting for that). It was great. He and I had amazing chemistry. We had fun in and out of the bedroom. I kept going down to NYC. He came up to Boston.

Last year he came up to Boston for Thanksgiving. I realized I felt more for him than I normally would allow myself to feel for anyone, and I couldn't control it. Right after Thanksgiving, I bought my tickets to head to NYC for a weekend. That would be a year ago today (approximately).

It was a year ago today (approximately) that OleMiss told me he met someone.

For the first time in my life, I was heartbroken. I didn't know what to say because I wanted to be happy for him, but I wasn't. I was upset. I had just received the confirmation email for NYC bus tickets, and I wouldn't be using them.

Lucky for me, I have an incredible roomate who felt the rift in the universe, confirmed my feelings and dictated exactly what was going through my mind.

I had a choice. I could tell OleMiss exactly how I felt or I could run away and pretend everything was fine.

I told him. I put my heart on the line. I said everything I felt for him. I told him I was upset, but wanted to be happy for him. "I know we're hundreds of miles away blah blah blah." It was your standard logorrhea.

The pause was only 2 seconds, but of course felt like hours.

He replied, "I feel the same way."

The joy was overwhelming. It was so wonderful that I didn't care what happened next.

And what happened next was the right thing. He gave his relationship in NYC a shot. Now a year later... they're still together.

Now a year later.... they're on the verge of a break. She wants to move on to the next step. He's struggling with making that move.

I know you're thinking I want to try again, but actually we're just gonna be friends. I know how he feels. Struggling to make that next move is the story of my life.

Most people would love to be in a relationship. I don't want to let go of my single life. I have freedom. I can date whomever I please. I can go out on a ton of dates, use and abuse. I can basically never grow up.

But I am growing up, whether I like it or not. Everything about me has changed in less than a year. I am trying to stay the same old Roxy. I'm holding on for dear life, but it's not working. It doesn't feel the same anymore. I no longer feel proud of the hearts I've stepped on. I don't care about any of the gifts anymore.

I think God has answered my prayers. I asked for someone I am attracted to, someone good, someone who really likes me for more than looks, someone who listens... someone patient, accepting, fun, intellectual. And in addition to all of that... RedSox loves to drink and has blond hair.

So what's the problem? I am a "future negative" thinker. I can only imagine the worst case scenarios.

(I never finished reading "The Power of Now." I swear I will over the break).

My therapist has been helping me realize and understand my behavior, and never once has she judged anything I've done. She's been encouraging me to take steps towards change, and because I'm an "all-or-nothing" type of girl (ie. typical med student), I go at change with my all... and somehow survive the multitude of anxiety attacks.

So this weekend I plan to tell RedSox everything... well almost. I'll try to be less "all", but more than "nothing."

It scares the crap out of me. It has also brought me to a bit of a low because I am imagining the worst, and it doesn't feel good.

For OleMiss, a break doesn't feel good... but it's not the worst, in fact it's the right thing to do. After this weekend, I guess we'll both either be singing the blues or doing whatever the best case scenario brings.

I wish I could imagine that.