One of the downsides of not stealing cable: having to watch whatever's on Fox because it's the only channel you get with any regular clarity. Anyone catch the premiere of "Cracking Up?" Wow, that was fucked up. Reminded me of that Chris Elliott debacle of many years ago -- not the show's theme as much as the feeling I got from it, which is that the show is a trainwreck, but yet I'll watch, anyway, because I can't (read: have no choice but to not) look away.
So today I attended the wake of a colleague's mom. It was deep in the heart of Gary's West Side, where the east-west streets aren't named after dead presidents. And as I passed by Baker Street, the same-named song by Jerry Rafferty crept into my head, and I started thinking of the one guy.
It's a complicated relationship we have, he and I, and yet simple on most levels. I met him through my sister and brother-in-law (both of whom I don't speak to at the moment, for reasons I'm sure I'll get into later), and we knew each other for a little more than a year before we actually hooked up. That was going on five years ago, and since then, we've been off and on in this, this thing that has all the makings of a solid, loving relationship -- at least, in my opinion, and at risk of incurring the wrath of all my closest friends -- but it never quite makes it there. He says that's because he doesn't think of me that way, even though he wishes he did. Oh, yes, there've been many discussions, e-mails, full-blown mad drama about the the whole thing, much of which has revolved around his declarations of that's-it-he's-done-he's-found-someone-else-and-so-on-and-so-forth.
And yet.
So, what the hell am I doing, you ask? A combination of things, really. Saying that I love him, though to-the-depths-of-my-very-being the honest-to-God truth, isn't the whole deal, because a) it's too easy an excuse, and b) you can absolutely love someone without prostrating yourself. (I've seen it happen, too, so no, I'm
not crazy.) So, how about habit, or my own fear of commitment? Sure, I'd buy either one of those, too. Another large part of it is because I swore to myself that I would never abandon him. Of
course I realize that you can't teach someone to love themselves enough that they don't think everyone's going to up and leave them; I'm adopted and therefore the quintessential fucking poster child for abandonment issues. But sometimes, it helps to have someone there to steer you through the bullshit, and he deserves someone to be there. The trick of it all has been to be there without completely losing myself.
I'm getting better at that, though. It used to drive another nail in my heart each time he'd tell me there was someone else, but now it just makes me sad. Not just for him, but for both of us, since we both seem to be seeking something we just don't seem to be ready for.
Oh, whatEVER. 
