Day 1 of 2 done

I just finished my first day of the Step 3 exam. It sucked... 8 hours straight answering questions.

I strolled back to my hotel afterward and walked into my room to find flowers waiting for me.

NotMexican sent them.

Don't you wish you were dating him?

I sent him an I Love You text. Seriously, who have I become?

He replied:
I love you Roxy. Very much in love with you and I like it. Every day I realize I would give the world for you and pray to God about it. Corny maybe... but true.

Don't you all just wanna vomit? (try not to though as it'll result in hypokalemia)

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A Good Freak-Out

So I'm freaking out... and not about my board exam in 3 days.

NotMexican (i should really change that name... sorry digressing)

Ok

NotMexican told me he loved me.

kussmaul breathing... (sorry I'm supposed to be studying)

I said it back.

Hyperventilating and bringing down intracranial pressure (sorry, again I really should be studying)

It's wonderful, but I'm scared.

I've never been in love before and it's freaking me out. Mostly because I'm doing the what-if thing and future thinking. (I can't find my Power of Now book, dammit!)

He told me he loved me. He told me he's trying to figure out how to get to Boston. It will probably be a year from now.

Which gives me more than enough time to fuck it all up!

OMG... I'm in love!

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Bankruptcy

I was out with NotMexican last week and we were randomly watching The Apprentice. He told me that Donald Trump has filed for bankruptcy twice in his lifetime. I was rather surprised as he's never been anything other than a billionaire to me.

The next time NotMexican and I were together, we were lying in bed and talking. He told me that he was testing me when he told me about Donald Trump.

ok????

I didn't quite get it until he revealed that he was filing for bankruptcy himself. I didn't know what to say because it just didn't make sense. He pays for everything when we go out. He seemed comfortable and set. I have no idea what filing for it means.

He also told me that while he is waiting for his tenants to move out of his house, he is living with his parents which is why he didn't want me coming over.

If this was any other guy, I think I would be more bothered. But I can also understand this is a tough time and it's embarrassing.

And I don't care. I think I love him.

I can't believe I just said that.

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"No... I want you to stay"

And the confusion with the Author continues. I haven't seen him in almost 2 weeks. We'd make and break plans within minutes. Finally last night, we committed to hanging out. We went to see the movie Public Enemies, and I absolutely LOVED it.

Before I get to the rest of my night with Author, I gotta talk about this movie. First of all I love time period films, and this one was set in the 1930s. The clothes, the cars, the story was just wonderful. I think what captivated me the most was John and Billie's love. I couldn't believe his devotion and love for her. It was terribly romantic, and I hope that one day someone loves me like that. (Actually RedSox back in Boston does...) And I hope I can reciprocate.

The movie was almost 2.5 hours. We got outta the theater around 10:30 and headed back to the Author's apartment. We hung out for about an hour just playing with the dog and talking to his roommate, and then of course made our way to his bedroom.

Two weeks ago when we spent the entire day together and finished off with sex, Author told me he was uncomfortable having me stay over. It hurt, but I forced myself to think in the direction of friends with benefits. 

Last night, after sex, he got up to take his dog out to potty. I got up and got dressed. When he came back, he looked shocked to see me dressed and asked why I was leaving. Uh... hello? So I reminded him of what happened last time and he claimed that he wasn't uncomfortable, but he has a hard time getting a good nights sleep with someone else in his bed. So I offered to leave again, and he embraced me and fell back onto the bed saying "No... I want you to stay."

So I stayed. We didn't cuddle much because I know he needs his space, and I was ok with that. We woke up together over a period of 3 hours and parted ways to get going with our days. He wanted to know my plans for the day, and to figure out when to hang out next. I said we'd be in touch.

And I'm right back in the thick of confusion.

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Eye-Opener

No, I'm not talking about the CAGE questionnaire for alcoholism.

I'm talking about an email I read a few days ago. One that I shouldn't have read because it was an invasion of privacy, but one I'm glad I read because it really had an impact on me.

So I had my first radiology interviews this week. One was in NYC,  and naturally I hit up OleMiss for a place to stay and some old-fashioned southern comfort. wink wink.

He and I were probably on our second bottle of wine when we started talking about our dating situations. He revealed that he was back in touch with his ex... let's call her Exie.

OleMiss met Exie about 2 years ago. (He and I were moving along swimmingly with a casual but fabulous long-distance relationship.) He really liked her and chose to pursue her, breaking my heart...

When that happened, I put my steel armor back on and fell back into some old ways. We always maintained our friendship, but I shoved my feelings deep into my subconscious. When OleMiss and Exie broke up the following year, our "relationship" resumed. But my feelings weren't allowed to come back.

This past Monday, OleMiss told me that Exie was back in his life. She took him to the emergency room last month when he had all of his health issues. She took care of him the whole time. In his state of vulnerability he got to thinking about the future and what matters... so they got back together.

They quickly realized their problems were still around, and neither one of them was working hard enough to compromise on future wishes and plans... so they broke up again. They continue to communicate and I know this because I read an email she sent him.

I'm Sorry!! It opened right up when I clicked on gmail. I saw the words "I'm sorry about last night" and I couldn't stop reading.

Her words had an intense outpouring of love. The emotion was more than I had experienced in written word before. I felt jealous of her ability to love OleMiss, of her emotions. I was actually happy to read his email returning the feelings.

Alas, their issues.... Alas, my issues. But wow... what an eye-opener to... love.

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You First

After declaring our love without actually saying "I love you," I feel like our relationship has stalled. It hasn't, but I feel like it has. The next logical movement would be to actually say the words I Love You, but I don't want to be the first one to do it.

Saying those words would officially make RedSox and I a couple. It would officially pull me off the market. It would officially make everything official... and it would be my first time.

Granted, we pretty much are a couple. I also haven't been interested in/lusted after another man. But I also haven't really called RedSox my boyfriend, nor has he called me his girlfriend.

In bed the other night, I started asking RedSox about our "situation." I told him I would tell strangers that I had a boyfriend. It's not quite as daunting when I know I'll never see those people again. He said he does the same thing.

I told him I wanted to say what we subtley said to each other in Vegas, but I didn't want to do it first.

He told me I wouldn't have to. He will do it. Just not yet...

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did you mean it?

continued from Miss Understood... Part 3

Sunday we read reports of horrendous weather back in Boston. The marathon was in danger of cancellation, and the Sox game would be cancelled too.

I was nervous about flying in this weather. I cared about my safety. Turbulence on an airplane is unacceptable. I am not interested in landing during 40+ mph winds. Lucky for me, RedSox is just as afraid of flying as I am. He called up the front desk and booked our room for another night while I called up the airline to reschedule our flight for Monday evening.

Monday morning, we awoke to the first runner crossing the finish line and the sox ahead 7 to 1. Oops... guess we coulda gone home after all.

What's worse is that I woke up after having a nightmare about failing the boards. I jumped outta bed and hopped in the shower to cry. Then I quickly got dressed and headed to Starbucks to study. An hour later, I went back up to the room to start the day with RedSox.

He knew I was upset when I went down to Starbucks. He hated that he couldn't do anything about it. I told him I needed to get some air, and warm weather. I'd perk up sooner or later.

Off we went to Aladdin to buy some art. On the walk there, I decided to open up a bit. I told him my biggest fear about failing the boards was that my parents wouldn't love me anymore. Ridiculous, I know...

He told me that if they stopped loving me, he still would.

I kept walking without responding. Did he just say "I love you" without actually saying it?

We get to Aladdin, and I help him pick out some pieces for his apartment. We're chatting about a couple of paintings, and the dealer comes over to ask us if we might be having an argument because most couples who spend a lot of time in front of a painting are fighting. We tell him we both agree on the art we love. The problem is not buying too many pieces.

The dealer was shocked. Apparently he spends a lot of his time breaking up fights between husbands and wives. uh... we're not married. RedSox just happens to love me. I think...

After RedSox drops $1500 on art, I make the decision to head to the Palms. We may have missed out on PlayBoy, but I know what really makes me happy is watching my man play poker or blackjack.

The Palms just wasn't our casino. RedSox lost $200 at Blackjack... and another $300 at Poker. We shoulda known Poker was gonna be a loss when the dealer knew all the other players by their first name.

We decide to head back to the strip to play poker at MGM. Another few hours later RedSox lost $250. Now it was his turn to be bummed. We headed to CraftSteak to have dinner.

There sat RedSox in a vulnerable position. There I was knowing what I had to do.

Me: So I have a question

RedSox: I think I know what you're gonna ask me

Me: What am I gonna ask you?

RedSox: I think you're gonna ask me about what I said earlier.

Me: Why yes I am... did you mean it?

RedSox: What if I said yes?

Me: Then I'd say me too

RedSox: REALLY???? Well then... yes I meant it.

Me: Me Too

RedSox: wow I suddenly don't feel bad about losing $750

The End

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Holy Shizzle

RedSox: it does scare me.... that I am responsible for the feelings for you. And you being not just somone, but someone who means such an incredible amount to me. To me, that's an awesome responsibility. One that having placed on me, as aforementioned, scares me to some degree

Me: i am so glad I did not go to Harvard

When RedSox drinks too much, he becomes incredibly articulate... ok wordy... ok he won't shut up.

Tuesday clearly was an awful day per my last post. I cried. I don't cry very often, but I broke down and let it happen in my mom's office after everyone had left for the day.

I cried because I'm scared and hate the stress. I cried because I couldn't tell my mom. I cried because the people I tried to talk to were unavailable.

I told RedSox I didn't want to hang out later that evening. I would be in a quiet mood, and that's no fun when he went to opening day at Fenway and watched the sox kick ass. He told me that he missed me and really wanted to see me. He didn't care and would pick me up at 7pm.

At 6:30, he texted he would be a late. At 8pm, he apologized because he was out for drinks with friends. At 10pm he called, but I didn't pick up.

On a normal day, I would have been Rage-Against-the-Machine pissed. Yesterday RedSox lucked out because I actually didn't want him to see me.

I didn't want him to know I could be vulnerable. I didn't want him to see the dried tears. I didn't want him to try to cheer me up or do anything. I was ashamed of my weakness.

BUT... i couldn't let him get away with being late. I harrassed him for a little bit online, but then he cut me off to apologize for not being there for me, and to tell me how he really felt. What you read above is just a snipit of our conversation.

RedSox is scared of his feelings for me. He told me he missed me so much yesterday that it overwhelmed him. It scared him that he cared so much about my absence, about my feelings, about ME. I didn't know how to respond because I feel the same way.

So I hit him with sarcasm. That's what I do. I'm almost ready to tell him how I feel, but I just need to jump over that one last hurdle of fear. I hope I can do it, because I do... I do love him.

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What is in a name?

Would a Rose by any other not smell as sweet?

Ah Romeo and Juliet... idiots. They should have never gotten involved with each other. That whole story portrayed a complete lack of communication. The lesson: talk to the people you love... or you will die.

Alas, the quote (not my rant) is more the topic of this post.

You all know me as Roxy. It is a self-chosen nickname that I fell in love with after watching Mary-Kate and Ashley's movie New York Minute... pretty pathetic but true.

It is a name that really has no ties to me. I gave it to Single Girl to use when she talked about me, but that's it. I don't wear the clothing brand. It isn't my middle name. Nothing about the name Roxy has anything to do with me.

My other nicknames do have meanings, though. I love them all, and they're a great reflection on my past.

Sister calls me Rooney. She's been calling me that since I was born.

My mom adds a "ooo" to the end of my real name. It's cute unless I'm getting yelled at.

My father calls me sweetie pie. It rarely makes an appearance since I'm quite the bitch to him.

Others have included Stalker#2, Nacho, Beans, and many more.

I identify with all these nicknames. They're endearing, identifying, funny... memories.

And now I have a new one. The other day RedSox and I got into a discussion as to where the term "Shorty" came from. I hypothesized that while it might have to do with height, I'm sure somebody was high and drinking a forty. When he looked at his ho, he saw a shorty. Shorty rhymes with Forty and thus entered the illustrious hip-hop dictionary.

RedSox decided to call me Shorty... and I in return call him Forty.

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To fall in love

I read a New Year's Resolution the other day where a woman decided that she wanted to fall in love this year, and my initial reaction involved anger.

While some of you think it's cute, I immediately decided it was unrealistic and stupid. I thought if it happens, I will be really happy for her and I'll considering making it my New Year's resolution some year. But of course I would keep track to see if she stays in love first... because I'm sure she would trick herself into love just for wanting it so badly.

Maybe I was cynical because I've never been in love, but then I took a look at the world today with all the divorce, the casual hook-ups, the heartaches, the money spent on dating services, the time. I asked myself, "Do I even want to be in love?"


Two Days Later...

Yeah... I do.

As I thought about the resolution, I realized whether she finds love or not she will most certainly benefit from the effort.

By setting a timeline, she is forcing herself to take risks. In one year, she will approach men when normally she might have waited for them to talk to her first. She may ask a guy out on a date. She might be the first to move in for the kiss. She will open herself up to an incredibly dangerous world, and as a result will have the biggest and possibly best ride of her life.

So I wish her the best. I hope she follows through with this resolution. I want her to find love.

One day, I want to find love.

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