Blog Title: Complikated

As Corny as Kansas in August

I had an amazing weekend, and, yes, he said it.

Friday night, as I brushed my teeth before bed, Chris went into the hall to smoke a cigarette. When he came back, I was lying in bed, and he declared that he had something to tell me. “I may regret this,” he said, “but fuck it. Tonight’s the night.” And then he made his way over to where I was lying, wrapped his arms around me, and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said and then asked him why he would regret it and he told me something about how he didn’t want to seem weak. I told him that was silly, but I also knew that was how he felt, which is why I didn’t think he’d be the first one to say it. But he was. I was surprisingly willing to wait him out.

In our karaoke box on Saturday night, he said it again, although in the form of “You made me love you.” And then again on Sunday, I brought it up, causing him to say, “Yes, I love you, Katie, and it scares me a bit.” It scares him, he said, because he is capable of having such strong emotions.

He hasn’t had a serious relationship since his last girlfriend broke up with him in the summer of 2007. They were together for four years, and he thought they would spend their lives together. In the end, they wanted different things and she left him. He was heartbroken and unable to even consider having a new relationship until almost a year after their breakup. A couple of months later, he met me.

All along the way, he’s made comments to me about how surprising it is for him to have feelings for someone again and how I’ve made him feel things that he didn’t think he would feel again. He’s even made it clear that he’s reconsidering having children. His very clear stance on not procreating was one of the things that led to the end of his last relationship. There’s the possibility, then, that he’s telling me that he’s considering them simply because he thinks that might make me happy—because he doesn’t want to spoil this in the same way as his last relationship. But he strikes me as far too honest for that.

And if he ultimately decides that he doesn’t want children, that’s ok, of course. That is a decision that is years away and, for now, I’m just basking in his love. I know it sounds corny and difficult to believe, but I really did feel quite magical when he told me that he loves me. Our relationship isn’t even three months old yet and is having plenty of growing pains, but this weekend made me feel like we will be together for a long time to come.

Here we are, looking drunk at karaoke on Saturday:

Bullet Dodging

Chris and I accidentally had a heart-to-heart talk last night. I say “accidentally” because I fully intended to shelve my issues until after his birthday celebration. But we were having a Skype call and I decided to share with him an article I recently read about sexuality and relationships. This led to a discussion of our relationship.

The nut of the conversation was that he has feelings for me and it hurt him when I emailed him on Tuesday to say that he needs to be more accepting and loving. (His response to that was “Yes, I do.”) He said that he was being stupid, possibly getting too comfortable in our relationship to the point that he was taking it for granted. He said he almost lost me and he doesn’t want that. He is very sorry for what happened, for making me cry, all of it. He does not want it to happen again.

He implied that we’re going to have a conversation in person, and the implication was that it’s about Love. I think he is going to tell me that he wants our relationship to be built on love and that he wants to be in this for the long haul and so on. Maybe he’ll finally say “I love you.” A few nights ago, I dreamt that he did, and I woke up immediately, feeling like something magical had happened to me.

After this conversation, we had a conference call on Skype with Leon and his brother Sam, and the four of us played Guild Wars (an online RPG) together. I really enjoyed it and hope that we can do it again in the near future.

And today I am incredibly excited about seeing him. He’ll be here in about four hours, and I cannot wait. I feel like everything is resolved, and while I’m still a bit anxious about giving him a great birthday, I think the weekend will be fun even if it’s not his Bestest Birthday EVAR!!!!

The Ecstasy and the Anxiety

I wasn’t able to fall asleep last night until nearly 5 AM, and, while I think there are several culprits for that (I’m looking at you, instant coffee), it was primarily because of Chris’ birthday. Oh, stress.

Chris is 30 today. He will arrive in Prague tomorrow, and I’ll take him out for dinner and drinks. On Saturday, we have reserved a karaoke box, i.e., a small room where 6-8 of us will gather for a couple of hours to belt out our favorite songs. And then there will be dinner and more drinks and general celebratory things.

…And I am nervous about all of this! I still haven’t bought him a present, because I can’t come up with a good idea. I am hoping to remedy this during my lunch today, but it’s not a done deal. Plus I am hoping that the karaoke will be fun but it could suck for a number of reasons.

It’s much deeper than this, though, surely. Last night, he and I talked briefly about what it means for him to turn 30, and he told me that he has been thinking about it for the past few days and he needs to make some changes in his life. He went on to say that these changes have nothing to do with our relationship—they will either have neutral or positive effects on our relationship. And he also said something about how he thinks it’s meaningful that I was the first person to wish him a happy 30th, that it’s great (but not that word, exactly) that he’s starting this new phase of his life with me.

But I felt concerned for some reason. It may have to do with some other things he said, like about how he chose to give up something in order to date me, and how he missed it for a while but doesn’t miss it now. However, he needs to fill that part of his life with something. And it’s not that I mind him filling that part of his life. He should, and it shouldn’t be with me. I mean, he needs other things in his life to satisfy himself, and I know he’s fully capable of finding those things.

But maybe it’s because I’m a romantic, and I don’t like thinking that, earlier in our relationship, he was missing this old life and not feeling completely fulfilled by me. Whatever it is, it’s stupid of me, and I know it, but I can’t shake it.

There is also this odd somber tone as we head into this weekend together, and that’s not something I’ve ever felt before spending time with him. Usually I’m bouncing off the walls in anticipation and cannot wait to see him. I’m guessing that my hesitation this weekend is due to my anxiety about giving him a good birthday weekend. It’s a lot of responsibility, and I’ll feel bad if I fuck it up, because 30 is a big one.

I think that, also, we haven’t completely gotten rid of our baggage from Monday night’s argument. My wounds are not completely healed (let's see how many cliches I can throw out in a single paragraph), and, while he stressed that we need to communicate better regarding these things, I feel whiny bringing anything up. That was another complaint that he had on Monday. He thinks that I’m whiny and that I worry unnecessarily. So, on the one hand, I’m supposed to tell him when things are bothering me so we can fix them, but voicing concerns can be irritating to him. If he’s in the right mood, he will laugh and say, “Oh, Katie, you are so sweet,” and launch into a diatribe about how amazing things are with us and how I have nothing to worry about. If he’s in the wrong mood, he will sigh and roll his eyes, and, presumably, resent me for a short while.

We could talk about these things this weekend. But it’s his birthday celebration, and I don’t want to be a buzzkill.

I basically feel like this weekend will make or break our relationship. If we have a great time, a lot of my worries will be put to rest. If it’s shit, well, so much for that.

But I know it’s not that simple. I think I am still capable of enjoying my time with him and still having these fleeting thoughts of discontent. Really, he and I need to have a frank discussion. I will try to shelve everything until Sunday.

Last night, after a glass of milk, some fluff television, soothing music, and a bath, I finally relaxed to the thoughts that I don’t have to fix this. It’s hard enough being responsible for my own happiness; I don’t want the weight of someone else’s on my back. As much as I adore Chris, if he can’t handle that I can be content in a quiet, mellow state and that I am not prone to bouts of giggling ecstasy, well, we probably aren’t going to work out together. Even his will power and my love can’t fix that.

After the Argument

Last night, Chris apologized for Monday night’s argument. He admitted that he needs to be “more accepting and loving” and will try to understand my depression better. He attempted to clarify some of what he said and took back bits of it. Plus, as I suspected, he said that he had been unreasonably irritated and lashed out. As someone who can also be quite a hot head, I understand this completely and forgive it. I want him to understand that I don’t find the behavior acceptable but we’ll move past it.

I introduced him and Leon last night in a Skype conference call. I did this in part because Chris was curious about Leon but also because I figured that Leon would offer us a few words of wisdom. I know that I have a strange relationship with my ex-husband—asking him to school me and my current boyfriend—but it is what it is. Dirk also weighed in on it when I talked to him a couple of nights ago. I told him that I was planning to have a Skype call with Leon because I knew that Leon had just had a really great first date and I wanted to hear details and give him someone to squee with.

Dirk said, “Wait a minute. Your ex-husband is going to call you to talk about a great date? Ooookay.”

But I know that Dirk understands, because he maintains close relationships with some of his exes. Just this past Saturday, he took one of them to a ball and he will do the same with another ex-girlfriend in a couple of weeks.

Anyway, Chris and Leon got along well and I’m hoping that we can all play an online role-playing game together in the near future. Actually, we may even do that tomorrow on Thanksgiving/Chris’ 30th birthday. Leon has suggested bringing in his brother Sam to make a four-person team, and I’m all for it, provided Sam isn’t too weirded out by interacting with his ex-sister-in-law and her new boyfriend. Personally, I see nothing wrong with it.

Good and Bad

Good: Even though the winter in the Czech Republic stretches on far longer than I would like (and it’s only November), one thing that I love about living here is the Christmas markets. The markets in the Old Town Square will not be up until Saturday, but there’s one set up in a square a few blocks from my work.

Today, after lunch with a few of my coworkers, we walked through that market and stopped for some hot, spiced wine. I did not have a cup, but I did appreciate the idea of it. There we were, toddling back to work 30 minutes later than our allotted hour and running a bit late because we decided to have a glass of alcohol. And that’s perfectly normal. Some days I really appreciate living somewhere so incredibly laid back.

Bad: I woke up this morning barely able to open my eyes because they were so swollen and puffy from crying last night. Chris and I had a terrible argument, and I sobbed. I think that he may have been extremely irritable because he is having a LOT of problems with his computers and network, but he said some things to me that were really quite hurtful.

At the heart of everything we discussed seems to be the issue that he really does not like that I am depressed. He thinks that I have a great life and should be happy with everything that I have—including him. He has stressed on more than one occasion that he is extremely picky so I should feel lucky that he chose me. Evidently, I don’t seem thrilled enough that he, who could have any woman he wanted, has his heart set on me. Point taken, I guess, that he doesn’t feel appreciated.

But still there’s the depression issue. He told me that he doesn’t believe in depression. He eventually amended this to say that he does believe in its existence but he thinks it’s over diagnosed and lazily treated with medication. I somewhat agree with that, but he spent a large amount of time telling me that I should just be happy. As though, I can just smile and the sickness will magically go away.

I was lying in bed while he was saying this and feeling a dull pain in my stomach from trying to suppress the crying. It reminded me of what Dirk said to me a couple of months ago. Or what my parents used to say to me ten years ago—my mom not understanding how someone can just feel empty and my dad wishing desperately for me to be normal.

In fact, Chris even said that last night. “Be normal,” he said. “Be a normal human being.” And he told me that people like him because he’s a happy person and they would like me too if I were happy.

This argument began because we were talking on the phone and I wasn’t answering him fast enough. I also wasn’t talkative enough. I keep trying to tell him that I am a quiet person and, yes, sometimes I get sad. If he finds that frustrating or boring or some other unpleasant thing, then it doesn’t bode well for us but he insists that he likes me so much and he thinks that being critical towards me is treating me like an adult and that it might also inspire me to improve myself. He doesn’t think that anyone deserves to be loved for what they are. He thinks that people should always be working on themselves.

I have mixed feelings about a lot of this. I think it’s great to aspire to be a better person and to work towards a goal, but I don’t understand what he’s trying to accomplish with me. Does he think he can bully me into being a better person? Does he look at my weak personality and think I could be easily molded?

Also, I don’t like that he thinks my depression could be so easily remedied and that he seems to have no tolerance for it. The only saving grace here may be that he was really damn irritated by his computer and network problems and not by me and that he was saying a lot of things that he regrets. Otherwise, it seems an unwise decision to enter into a long-term relationship with someone who doesn’t understand some of the most integral parts of me. I feel blindsided by his thoughts on depression. I wonder what else he hasn’t told me.

A Couple Monday Notes

Today I signed an email to Chris "Love, Kate." That was a first, but he didn't respond to the use of "love." His answer came back signed with "kisses," one of our standard closings.

David invited me to his place on six consecutive nights last week. He called it quits with the woman he was seeing because he really does not want a relationship. Well, in his words, he doesn't want to start something serious when he doesn't plan to stay here for more than a year and a half. That's down from the three years he originally told me. I think he hates it here. That's his business.

Chris turns 30 on Thursday and will be here this weekend. I still don't have a gift for him.

Just Another Czech Annoyance

I woke up this morning to the sound of construction in my building. I got up and went into the bathroom, where I discovered that whoever was doing this construction had turned off the water. Which makes today the second time in ten days that my water has been shut off.

The last time that it was turned off, someone had posted a notice on my building's door to let us know ahead of time that it would not be operational. It still annoys me greatly when the water is off (it's been off 5-6 times since I moved into this apartment in January), but at least I know in advance. Today? No warning.

I tried to find the men doing the construction work so I could ask them when it'd be turned back on--I'm a bit horrified at the thought that they'll forget to turn it back on and I'll be without water for the weekend or longer--but they didn't answer the door of the apartment they're working on when I knocked.

Also, the construction, in and of itself, is incredibly annoying. Last spring, they were working on this same apartment for a couple of weeks and I would wake up to buzzing and hammering on Saturday and Sunday mornings. And, of course, no one notified me in any way of this construction.

Chris will be here next weekend to celebrate his 30th birthday, and I pray we don't have a repeat of last spring's noise. Couple that with the water turned off, and he may think twice about dating someone who's willingly living in such a hellhole.

But his opinion of the Czech Republic is already incredibly low, so I imagine that this would scarcely faze him. And that sort of indifference might be well-earned. I mean, this is Eastern Europe. How could I possibly expect to have running water at regular intervals? That's just crazy!

Love-Induced Anxiety?

My weekend in Vienna was great, except I didn't tell Chris that I love him (which, by the way, I totally do).

Chris and I have been talking a lot about love--about love songs that we have for each other, about how he doesn't find it necessary to always say "I love you" but instead to show it, and other mushy things.

Plus he told me that I'm one of the most amazing people he's ever met, that he's always wanted a girlfriend like me, and that he wished I would stay with him forever (as in, not go back to Prague, because we have a lot of fun together).

In a nutshell, he seems to think quite highly of me.

[EDIT at 3:46 PM: I'm rereading this and it sounds so stupid because I'm imagining Chris reading it and my feelings and observations sound so juvenile. But I'm trying to simplify strong feelings into a few paragraphs and it's difficult.]

Unfortunately, he also said this: "I think you are amazing, Katie, and I love you."

Well, that's not the unfortunate part. What's unfortunate is that we weren't even looking at each other, and so he didn't even get to see if I reacted in the beat before he corrected what he said to this: "I like you."

And so I lost my nerve.

I asked him again last night what he feels about me, and he said that he likes me, and then he changed that to say that what he feels for me is "a bit more than like."

Now I said before that I know he'll never be the first to say it, but it does make me wonder if I'm jumping the gun. The easiest thing, obviously, would be to just wait a bit longer.

And yet I feel so anxious (and this entry might sound quite choppy because I'm having trouble holding a complete thought in my head because I'm so anxious at the moment) and I wonder if getting it out there would make me feel better. An email is cowardly but I think it would relax me.

Fouad, Lenka, and Amy

Fouad called me at work yesterday to ask me for the password to one of his 853 (rough estimate) email accounts.  First of all, buddy, we broke up 10 months ago and, while I had several passwords to several of your email accounts, I don’t remember them.  Plus I’m pretty sure that the one you were requesting the password for is the one secretive account that I was never allowed to read.  This is what happens when you keep (approximately) 853 email accounts, each with a different password.  I mean, duh.

 I think I’m like his mom in Prague.  I’m that person he contacts when he is needy and desperate and doesn’t have anyone else to turn to.  But, in part because I am <i>not</i> his mother, I feel less and less guilty about not helping him.

 A couple of months ago, he was trying to hit me up for several hundred dollars so that he could fly home to Algeria.  I felt bad that he couldn’t raise the funds to see his family but there was no way I was going to pay for it.  Somehow, though, he managed, and I will always wonder how.  But he flew home to Algeria in mid-October.  And then he proceeded to text me and do that call and hang up thing, from an Algerian phone number.  I did not call him back.

 On Saturday, he returned to Prague and asked me if he could stay with me for a week, but I turned him down, simply saying that my landlord was going to be visiting this week.

 Frankly, now that I know that he was fortunate enough to come up with the money for a plane ticket back to Algeria, I can stop worrying about him.  I guess I’ve been feeling a bit guilty and thinking that I still owed him something after we broke up in January, but he can take care of himself.

 My annoying friend Lenka might stop by tonight after work so that she can pick up her mail, which she is still getting at my apartment 10.5 months after she moved out.  Actually, she only contacts me now because of her stupid mail.  Caroline told me that I should take Lenka’s name off of my mailbox and that I should have done that months ago.  And Caroline is obviously right.  But we all know I’m a pushover, and so I haven’t.

 I think my subconscious has opted for the annoy-her-until-she-no-longer-wants-to-get-her-mail-at-your-apartment plan.  I’m totally cancelling on her tonight, in part because I think I’ll go grab a few drinks with my friend Leslie.  But also because I’m a bitch who is tired of being used as Lenka’s personal post office.

 I saw Amy and Emmy today for the last time in Prague.  If I ever see them again, it will happen stateside.  Amy was talking today about women dating/marrying men exactly like their fathers, and she asked if I had done this.  I’m not really sure, frankly.  I don’t think Leon and my dad were anything alike.  And certainly not Fouad.  Chris has an outgoing personality that might be similar to my dad’s but their beliefs, ideas, and views of the world are so completely different.

 Anyway, I was describing my dad to her as an extroverted, talkative person, and she stopped me to ask how my seemingly friendly, outgoing parents could have produced someone like me.  “You’re so quiet!” she said.

 It made me stop to wonder how she perceives me.  Our friendship was sort of built around my listening to her problems.  She had to go through that hellish pregnancy and birth; she had to go through one particularly hellish job here in Prague; she had the general hell of dealing with a foreign land and people who aren’t, by nature, very helpful or friendly; she had some arguments and issues with her husband.  And so I listened.

 Yes, it’s true, I am a quiet person.  But I was quiet out of the kind of respect that I think my parents taught me.  And that, I guess, is how my friendly, outgoing parents produced someone like me.

 I really hope my new sofa and armchairs are in my apartment when I get home, but 20 koruny says it ain’t so.

The Love Song of Kate H.

I have just had a fucking great day. Everything at work has gone smoothly, and we went out for lunch, which is always a big event with my company. Today's lunch lasted 3.5 hours and included many delicious dishes and alcoholic beverages. This is something I love about my company/living in Europe.

Also, I think I'm getting my furniture delivered tomorrow. I'm not entirely clear on that, but I think it will be in my apartment when I get home from work. What's unclear is that this was my landlord's original idea but there was some confusion concerning the keys to my building, so I might not get the furniture for another week or two. I would obviously like the furniture sooner rather than later but it's not a huge deal.

The meeting with the landlord went very well. Mostly, it was just a lot of nodding and smiling. I showed him where I want the sofa when he delivers it, and I also showed him some water damage in my, uh, toilet room (I have separate rooms for my toilet and my bathtub).

Things with Chris are going super. I'm not quite bold enough to burst out with an "I love you" so I'm saying things that test the waters and let him know that it's coming, possibly when I'm in Vienna this weekend.

Yesterday, he was sharing a song that reminds him of me (it's a gothic rock song by Cradle of Filth, which is not my style of music at all), and he said that he doesn't like traditional, cheesy love songs, because he finds them pathetic and lame. I, on the other hand, adore cheesy love songs, because when I'm in love, I basically turn into a block of cheddar.

So we talked about this for a while and then the conversation moved on to something about snobby Americans, and he told me that I'm not a snobby American. "You're the exact opposite of a snobby American," he said. "You are very friendly and that's one of the things that I like about you very much."

"Well, good," I said. "Then perhaps you can write a love song about how friendly I am."

"My song of appreciation about you would be about a lot more than your friendliness," he said. And then he paused. "Oh, fuck it, fine. My love song about you."

So when I'm in Vienna this weekend, I plan to look him in the eye and say something like, "I know you think it's cheesy, unnecessary, and possibly even pathetic, but I love you, and I don't mind saying it." Because I totally don't.

I just might need to have a few drinks in me first.

The Potential Free Furniture

I am currently at home and waiting for my landlord to arrive. He's due at 7:30 and has not been in my apartment since I took over the lease at the beginning of the year.

I'm a little concerned as to how this meeting is going to go or what it's even for. About a week ago, he told Jirka that he had a sofa and two armchairs that he has no place for and wanted to "store" them in my flat. I guess that the way he sees it, he owns my apartment so if he chooses to use it as a cache for old furniture, so be it.

Of course, I don't own a sofa or armchairs so, once I was assured that I'm not being used for temporary storage, I was quite happy about this furniture. I haven't seen it, and it could be horribly ugly but I don't really care. I've wanted to buy some new furniture for a while but it's such a hassle because I don't have a car and getting it delivered could mean taking a day off from work to be here when it arrives. Not cool.

So today was supposed to be the day of my furniture delivery. But, for some reason, it isn't. Instead, the landlord is just popping in, possibly to see that I have enough room for this furniture before he goes to the trouble of bringing it here. Fair enough, but I can assure him that there is enough room for it. Apparently my word isn't satisfactory.

Also, according to Jirka, he doesn't seem to remember what is in my flat, i.e., what it came furnished with. The answer to that is: absolutely nothing. No fridge, no stove, no washing machine (which sounds unusual for people living in American apartments but it's common here), and not even a damn toilet seat.

I had to buy those things, and it concerns me that we may get into some kind of argument over who actually owns that fridge or that washing machine, because we've got a huge language barrier and our own interests at hand.

I did find it odd that my deposit on this apartment was so expensive: it was two months rent, whereas in my last flat, which was furnished, it was only one.

In a nutshell, signing a contract in a foreign language is rather scary and is a guaranteed way to get screwed. I lost several hundred dollars on that last apartment and I worry that the same thing will happen here. I have about fifteen minutes to wait and panic and see how this will all play out.

I Don't Hate My Family That Much

I am not going home for Christmas, New Year's, or my sister's wedding. The flight is $1700, and there is no way for me to rationalize that. Yes, I suppose that I technically have $1700 that I could spend on a flight, but I would rather not. That's fucking expensive, and a flight in the spring would be half that price.

My sister has still not talked to me about the wedding, nor has she talked to my parents. They only know about it because of me, and I only know about it because my sister's fiance told me about it.

Also, I received this gem of a Facebook message from one of my sister's friends last week:

Is there any reason you won't come back for [the wedding]? I know you were there for her first one. Which was the biggest mistake, and everyone new it was. This one isn't a big mistake, this is the right one for her. They have their ups and downs, but they are truly meant for one another. I know it would mean so much to her if you could come home even if it was just for one day, for the day of the wedding. Your her sister. No matter how much the two of you have fought in the past and said nasty and mean things to each other, she still loves you very much. You know that. And it would mean the world to her if you could be there. So I know you Kate. You don't hate your family that much to not want to come home for you sisters 2nd wedding, the marriage that will end up lasting til death do us part! At least I hope you don't hate your family at all! More or less I'm begging you to come, for Sara. She doesn't even know that I am doing this right now. And if she did, she would probably get upset with me.

I don't have anything new to say but I'm marking Obama's victory.

I could not be happier about Obama's win. I stayed up until 5 AM to watch election returns, although I think I was mere minutes away from the official victory when I finally decided I should get some sleep. But once Ohio was called, I knew he had it.

It was just so hard to believe after the last two elections that it could be that simple.

I guess Proposition 8 in California hasn't been called yet but it seems as though it will pass. That is the bitter to Obama's sweet victory.

But I am still on cloud nine. Today I am very proud to be American. It is a welcome change.

A Few Chris Photos

What better time to post happy pictures of me and Chris than on this crappy day? So here are some that Amy took on Saturday:

Grr

I spilled coffee on my keyboard earlier today and took out the B and N keys as well as the spacebar. I've been given a replacement keyboard, but these keys are incredibly sticky. Presumably, the last person to use it spilled coffee on it.

I am in a bad mood and having a rather shitty day but nothing terrible has happened; mostly, it's things like the spilled coffee. For instance, I went to the store to buy some toothpaste and deodorant, and I gave the clerk 2000 crowns to pay for it. That's a big bill, and I can understand being a little annoyed, but guess what! That's her job!

I worked retail a couple of times, and I can tell you that it's not the end of the world when someone *gasp* expects you to make change! Besides, what change did I need from that? Four bills and two coins. Is that really so difficult?

It must've been, because she gave me a horrible, evil look and just stood there, like she expected me to take it back. No, lady, that's all I have.

This past weekend, Chris was marveling at how lazy some of the Czech work force is. He said that you'd never get away with that in Austria. You'd never get away with it in any civilized country. But a lot of people here are completely apathetic about working. You walk into a store and they often don't even look at you--forget greeting or helping you. They just continue to sulk in the back corner.

It is damn annoying.

So this woman wanted to make sure that I knew that I was severely inconveniencing her by asking her to do her job. And, believe me, I know it. And there's nothing I can do about it, you lazy, lazy woman.

Anyway, this sort of venting should be good for me but not when I'm doing it on such a sticky keyboard so forget it.

You don't have to say you love me

Either later today or tomorrow, I will write another post about my weekend with Chris, and when I say "write," I mean "upload a lot of photos."

For now, I want to write about one relatively small component of the weekend and of our relationship. That component is love.

Aww.

Actually, it's not so "aww" because neither of us has said it yet. But I'm about 95% certain that he's in love with me, but he doesn't want to be the first to say it. I don't want to be the first to say it either, but for a different reason.

I have been in about five relationships in which the L word was mentioned. In only one of those relationships (with Leon, actually, if you're curious) was I the first to say it. In all the others, I think it came out of the other person's mouth too soon.

In three of those cases, it was viewed as Not A Big Deal, as something completely casual. In the fourth, I knew it was coming because he told me that he had something he wanted to say to me. And it made me uncomfortable. All of these situations made me uncomfortable, because I was not in love with any of them when they first said it. Was I supposed to say it back? Say "thank you"? Smile and nod politely?

What should have been a beautiful moment in our relationship was awkward and uncomfortable and that is why I am waiting with Chris. I will say it when I think he wants to hear it back. Also, I am trying to make sure that it's what I feel for him. I'm generally of the "you just know" opinion when it comes to being in love, but I had very strong feelings about a certain someone not too long ago (gee, who was that?) and, while it was reminiscent of love, it was not actually love.

But I will be the first to say it with Chris, because I know he won't say it first. It has to do with his attempts to be "cool," like I explained in that dog tail wagging analogy a few posts back. And I don't care that I will be first; I'm just pacing myself and ensuring that it will be well received on his end. I'd say all signs point to yes on that one.

He and I have been talking a lot about mature and immature views of relationships, and he thinks I need to grow up a bit in this regard. He's probably right. Anyway, I took this to mean that he thinks I have an immature view of love, so I asked him, when I finally tell him that I love him, will it not mean anything to him because my views of love are immature?

This is when he explained to me that he thinks my views of love are mature; I only need to grow up in terms of relationships.

"Oh, ok," I said.

Silence.

"Why do you ask?" he said. "Is that just a hypothetical question?"

And I explained why I asked and then said yes, it was hypothetical.

"...Oh," he said.

Right before I went with him to the train station yesterday to send him back to Vienna, we were talking about promises--specifically, I asked that he "promise" that he would do something. He joked that he is incapable of forming the words "I promise."

"Ok, sure, whatever" was my response.

Then he asked if there were any other combination of words that I thought he'd never say, and I know he meant "I love you."

I told him no. Because I know that he will eventually say it. After I say it.

And as affectionate, caring, and considerate as he is, I don't care that he hasn't said it yet. We'll get there, possibly when I'm in Vienna two weekends from now.

Here's the only photo from this weekend that I've put on Flickr:

Louis

Leon had Louis put to sleep. It's more his news than it is mine, so I will link you to his post.

I am sad about it, of course, but I completely respect his decision.

Some Pig

My coworker just returned from a two week business trip in Central America and brought everyone back a worry doll from Guatemala. Very cool.

I might put it to use in the coming days as I think about Louis. For the few of you who don't read Leon's blog, his guinea pig Louis (formerly, our guinea pig Louis) is probably going to die soon. I support whatever decision that Leon makes because I know that he has already given the matter great thought, and I certainly don't envy the position that he is in.

Leon put Louis on his webcam last night so that I could see (and hear) him for, presumably, the last time. I cried, of course.

I know that Leon has been an excellent owner (and pig daddy) over the last five years. I asked him to make sure that Louis is comfortable and given lots of attention in his last days, but there was really no need for me to say that. I already know that Leon will be wonderful, because he always has been.

Louis has been a lucky pig with lots of attention and care, a huge cage, and companionship. Even though he often seemed like a curmudgeonly little fart, he had to have been happy--in whatever capacity a guinea pig can be, at least.

I love him, of course. He has been a damn good pig.

It never seemed so right before

This past weekend, Chris and I had our first webcam call on Skype. Prior to that, we had only text chatted, and his takeaway from that event was basically, "Holy shit! Why haven't we done this before!?"

Last night, we talked until 3 AM. He got a bit goofy and started singing somewhere around 2. A bit later, he grabbed one of his guitars and serenaded me with Frank Sinatra's "Something Stupid."

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies
You heard the night before
And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true
It never seemed so right before
I practice every day to find some clever lines to say
To make the meaning come through
But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late
And I'm alone with you
The time is right your perfume fills my head, the stars get red
And oh the night's so blue
And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid
Like: "I love you"

The State of My Date

I started writing about an aspect of Chris’ personality that I find incredibly endearing but I’ve deleted my three paragraphs because I realize it is far too complicated to fully explain. Suffice to say that, at times, he comes across as very excited(!) about us(!) and about me(!), even though I know that there’s a part of him that wishes to hide that in an effort to seem cool. Because, to most people, he is very cool and nonchalant. Hell, I think he’s very cool too, but that’s why I get to be extra flattered that he likes me (and could turn out to be the guy who thinks I hung the moon).

So, these two parts of him waging war on each other remind me of a dog that is trying extremely hard to obey its master and remain at attention, even though it is really! fucking! excited! about that treat you’re about to give him. And while the majority of his body remains still and his expression says, “What? Is that a snausage in your hand? Oh, I hadn’t even noticed,” his tail wags rapidly and betrays him.

So, to sum that analogy up: Chris is a dog, and I’m a snausage. A very happy snausage.

I have twice taken the train to Vienna to visit him. The first time, as soon as our eyes met on the platform, he ran towards me and seemed absolutely thrilled to see me. The second time, I was on a train that was practically empty and only had three or four cars, so he walked briskly alongside the train as it pulled into the station, searching for me. He easily spotted me sitting alone in my compartment and hopped on board as soon as the train stopped. Again, he beamed.

I contrast this with the last person to greet me in a similar setting: Dirk at the airport. To be fair, Dirk wasn’t my boyfriend, but, still, he wasn’t exactly waiting for me when I arrived. I mean, he was there. But he was outside smoking. If Chris were to meet me at an airport, I think he’d find a way to greet me on the tarmac. Or pilot a single-engine plane out to greet me mid-air.

He will be here on Friday and through the weekend. I am immensely excited. He makes me feel pretty damn special, and I really hope that I do the same for him.

The Potential Last Mention of the Sommelier

For the record, I am very happy in my relationship with Chris, but this is not an entry about Chris. It is an entry about David.

I last saw David on September 4th. We exchanged a few messages the following weekend, which was a very rough time for me. That Sunday, I was severely depressed, which blew up into a huge argument with Dirk that I still have not completely gotten over. (The last time that Dirk and I spoke, which was October 4th, he referred to me as a “suicide candidate,” and I honestly think that he didn’t intend that to hurt my feelings. That’s just Dirk calling it like he sees it, but sometimes I’m just too sensitive to deal with him, which is why I haven’t phoned him in the last few weeks. But this is not an entry about Dirk. It is an entry about David.)

Decisions were made on that Sunday and in the following days, including one to stop seeing David. I was not going to contact him any more; that was it. On Tuesday, September 9th, I met Chris.

And about two weeks later, Chris came to Prague to stay with me for the weekend. That Saturday, I received several text messages from David, asking me to come over. I went back on my promise to myself by responding to those messages to say I was busy. I did not respond to his final message, which asked me to meet him the following day when I was no longer busy.

Sunday evening, Chris and I decided to date exclusively and we changed our statuses on Facebook. About two days later, David sent me a message, admitting to me that he was seeing someone else (um, duh! I always knew that!) but that we’d have to see what October had in store and maybe we’d meet up. I did not respond, and I thought it was obvious that he only admitted that he was seeing someone else because I was now “in a relationship.”

I thought the admission was some kind of “Oh, yeah? Well I’m seeing someone too, so nyah!” response to my relationship status change. After all, three days earlier, he wanted to sleep with me. And now he was seeing someone? Interesting.

It’s possible, though, that it was meant as a kind of pact. “You’re dating someone? Well, so am I! But maybe we’ll get together in October! Squee!”

A few days ago, he poked me on Facebook, which caused me to look at his profile for the first time since I swore him off. And in addition to befriending the entire female population of the Czech Republic, he’s back on the dating applications. Methinks he’s no longer seeing someone. Or her importance is about the same as mine, i.e., none at all. The charming French lover boy is still on the prowl. How romantic.

I have not poked him back but I also haven’t ignored the poke. This has the unfortunate effect of his name always showing up on my Facebook home page, forcing me to give him some consideration, but it also doesn’t allow him to poke me any more, because he doesn’t deserve the privilege. Ha!

So, today, I checked my email and saw that he, again, contacted me. He sent this:

Subject: hey

Hi Kate,

How are things? Long time no see! Very busy here, I just come back from a Team Building in the countryside.

Have a great week.

David.

Wedding/Facebook

Actually, I am a bit miffed right now. I just went on Facebook and this is what my sister has been up to today:

Sara updated their Weddingbook. 7:15am - Comment

Sara accepted a growing flower from you. View the flower -OR- Send a flower! 7:13am - Comment

Sara just completed the drug smuggling by sea in Mob Wars. 7:10am - Comment

Sara just earned the Pull Tabs title Duran Duran. 7:08am - Comment - Show 1 More Post

Sara reached level 85 in Pull Tabs and now gets 435 Credits per day. 7:08am - Comment

Sara reached level 78 in Scratch and Win and now gets 400 Credits per day. 7:07am - Comment - Show 1 More Post

Another Reminder Not to Give Birth in Prague + A Few Other Things

My friend Amy is moving back to America on November 15th, but the Czech Republic wanted desperately for her to take a piece of it back with her...

As I think I mentioned before, she had a C-Section. The surgical scar from that hadn't healed last week (which may or may not be normal) but she started getting very sick. So she went to the doctor, who discovered that the scar was infected. Infected, because some surgical instrument had been left inside her.

So the doctor just reached inside the scar, searched around a bit, and then dug the foreign object out with his fingers. He then held it up for her to see ("Ta dah!") but she isn't sure what it was because they told her the name of it in Czech and, also, it was covered in blood. As was everything in the vicinity. Blood, blood, blood.

Not that this was some kind of horribly invasive surgery in which they didn't sedate or numb her, but, still, that sounds really fucking gross and painful. She has been through hell, and I know that for her, November 15th can't come fast enough.

A few other things:

I had my first German lesson with a native speaker named Robert last night. I thought he was a good fit for me, so I'll see him next Wednesday. I'm also having dinner with Caroline tonight and she is giving me a lesson. I know I can't set a schedule with her because she's too busy and I think it would stress her out so I'll let her teach me every week or two when she's available and keep Robert on for the full-time gig.

I contacted my sister about the wedding, but I haven't heard back. I just want to say that I'm not upset about it even though I do sound pissy in that entry, as a couple of you noted. I'm not going to make any decisions about travel until I talk to her, and I think that's only fair.

Yesterday during my lunch break, I walked under one of the bazillion construction sites in Prague and got some kind of debris dumped on me. The guy working there kind of shrugged about it, and I wasn't sure if I should be annoyed that they hadn't blockaded the sidewalk when making that kind of mess or embarrassed that I hadn't kept my distance. Anyway, the splatter seems to have washed out of my jacket.

I have a few remarks that I want to make about Chris but I think I will save that for another entry.

The Scotsman (The Newspaper)

As you may know, part of my job entails visiting the websites of international newspapers, so I get to read a lot of interesting news (when it's in English, of course).

Today I found this "Burning Issue" in The Scotsman. So, in this time of economic crisis, just what pressing issue is facing Scotland today?

Do Bagpipes Need to Be Modernized?

Ha! I love it.

Corny

This morning, Chris sent me an email just because he was thinking of me and wanting to know that I slept well.

Oh my great goodness. I know it may seem corny but I like corny. And I was touched by it. It has spread a rainbow over this dreary, overcast day.

…Like I said, I likes me some corny.

He sent me a message later to tell me that he was on his way to renew his passport, which expired on the 11th. If he gets it back in time (estimate is five days), he’ll be here on Halloween. If not, he’ll be here the weekend after. He told me to press my thumbs about this—you know, because he’s a native German speaker and that’s what they do instead of crossing their fingers. Oh, so cute.

Well, my thumbs are pressed and my fingers crossed, but, either way, I’ll see him very soon and I’m excited.