Want/Need/Have

The Filmmaker confronted me a while ago about the fact that he felt that I maybe wanted more from this relationship (with a little “r”) than he was ready to give. We talked honestly and openly about where we were and what my expectations were, etc. And I had to tell him honestly - I don’t know what my expectations are. I really like where we are and what we are. And, yes, of course I’d like it to turn into something “more” - whatever that means. But for right now, this is exactly where I want to be.

And it’s been great ever since then. Maybe some of the pressure is off and maybe he just needed to be heard.

But since then, I have been thinking about what I want and why I’m with him.

Yes, of course there are things I’d like for him to do. I’d love to talk to him more when I don’t see him. I’d love to call him and just talk on the phone for a while. I’d love to get little text messages from him when I have something important going on. There’s a ton of little things that I’d love for him to do.

Because I’ve had those things done for me in the past and they made me feel great. The Poet, especially, was good at those “things”. If I had an art show, he’d text me as I was driving there, wishing me luck. That usually turned into me calling him eventually, after numerous texts, and talking to him for a long time. He’d call me once or twice a week and we’d talk for hours about deeply personal things. I cried on his shoulder more than once and he fought crying on mine more than once. We had long nights of wine and poetry and him reading to me, which was one of my favorite things about him.

And those are the things that made me think there was something more there. Because it felt like what I wanted - someone to care, someone to participate, someone to make me feel special.

But he sneaked away eventually, leaving me feeling not terribly special.

And now, there’s the Filmmaker. And a part of me wants him to do all those terribly special things. And for a long time, I thought it meant that he didn’t care because he didn’t do those things. He doesn’t call. He doesn’t text. He responds quickly when I do. And I wanted those things, especially after we talked and I really started thinking about it.

But then I realized something. I’ve had those things with CB and the Poet and others. And in the end, I was never really sure how they felt. I was never really sure if they really, truly cared. Because in the end, they simply disappeared. From being thisclose to vanishing on the horizon.

And though he doesn’t do the things the other did, the Filmmaker does his own thing. He brought me cupcakes to Drink and Draw after we went out on Halloween for the first time. I didn’t think he would even show up, but he did. And with cupcakes. There was that one beautiful, incredible, heart-stopping night (same night as the cupcakes, in fact) with the impromptu party invite on the 35th floor penthouse with the full moon. And that’s when I fell. Total rom-com night. And he fought to get me Sweden at a white elephant Christmas party. And now Sweden hangs proudly in my kitchen (not gonna explain it, just know it was funny and amazing and awesome). And he got a nightlight for his bathroom because I’m terrified of the dark. And he puts whipped cream in my coffee.

And he’s here. And we don’t get deep in conversation about who we are and where we come from, because I think we both know all of that about each other. We were friends first, so there’s a lot that doesn’t need to be said. And because I think we both don’t really need to say it anymore.

And he’s here. And he winks at me, which makes me giggle. And he sings to me, which I love. And he makes me breakfast every time I stay over. And there’s never a question about me staying over. And he lent me sweatpants when I forgot my jeans at home.

And he’s here. And the way he holds me sometimes when we’re falling asleep says more than any four hour conversation on the phone could say. And the way his eyes light up as we climb into bed and settle in for the night means more than a million text messages could mean.

And he’s here. And that’s more important than anything else.

And I’m not spending hours wondering how he feels or if he likes me or if he’s going to be around next week or what he’s thinking or feeling or… on and on and on. Because he’s here.

And for the longest time, I thought I needed all the other stuff plus what he gives me. Because that’s what I thought it should be. But I’ve had the other stuff. And it left me empty.

And whenever this goes, whatever it turns into, I know right now, this is exactly what I want and what I need. All the other stuff means nothing because it’s not him. I want what he has and what he gives. That’s all I need… for right now…