Nerd Alert! ..... The Doctor is In!

I do not try to hide the fact that I am a gigantic nerd.  A well-dressed nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.  I often have nerdy obsessions, and my current one is Doctor Who?  It combines my obsession with everything British with my obsession with sci-fi and the supernatural.  Add a quirky good looking “doctor” in a bowtie, and it becomes irresistible for me.  Man, I do love a good bowtie!  The Doctor is clever, fair, and just a little bit lonely.  Even though he is an alien, there are parts of him that are so distinctly human.  His love for humanity, his need for companionship, his demand for justice, all add to his ever complicated character.  The Doctor is still a mystery even though viewers have learned different tidbits throughout the extensive run of Doctor Who?  I am by no means a Doctor Who? expert, but I am now a huge fan!  

This week marks the 50th Anniversary of Doc Who? and I can’t get enough of the marathons and specials.  I asked for TARDIS socks for Christmas, I swear the color copier in my office is a Dalek,  and if I was ever to get a tattoo it would be “Dreamer of Impossible Dreams.”  The Doctor represents hope, the idea that caring is important.  The doctor once said, “  You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I’ve never met anybody who wasn’t important before.”  I find beauty in the idea that everyone he meets is important, that every person that he encounters in life has some significance.  People matter to him.  In a world where I often feel irrelevant, the idea that I matter is a comfort, to be brilliant is a challenge.  

If you were to ask me who my favorite Doctor is that would be a difficult question to answer.  I have an equal love for the 10th Doctor, David Tennant, and the 11th Doctor Matt Smith.  I love them for different reasons though.  

Tennant, of course is funny and quirky, but he has a strong commanding presence about him.  He has a confidence about him, and he knows his doctor is very clever, brilliant even.  There is also something kind of mad about him, something that can snap if pushed just a little too hard.  Death hath no fury like a scorned 10th Doctor.  He also loves and does all he can to protect his companions, and Universe.   

Then you have Matt Smith, the eleventh Doctor, the dream boat.  Young, quirky, full of life, and even just a bit odd in the most charming way.  The 11th doctor sees the wonder and possibility in the world, the good in people, the power of love.  The way he believes in people with such desperate hope is both heartwarming and heartbreaking.  I would love for the eleventh doctor to take my face in his hands, look me in the eyes, and tell me that I’m brilliant like he so often does with his companions.  I want to marry Smith’s Doctor (Sorry River Song), or really just Matt Smith himself!  Maybe it is just the bowtie, you all know my weakness for a good bowtie.  I also happen to like the fez he wore from time to time.  But it is not the bowtie or the fez, it is the light in his eyes, it is the way that he has a direct line to my emotions.  That is why I fancy him.  For those of you not as obsessed with everything British like I am, that mean I have the hots for him.  

Doctor Who? is always changing, evolving, and every doctor is his own man with his own adventures and companions.  That is why it stays exciting, and keeps people engaged.  I love sitting on my couch exploring the Universe with the Doctor, going on grand adventures, and losing myself in the magic of the TARDIS.  

Geronimo!   

Goodbye Forever

I once wrote that with D, it wasn’t goodbye forever, just goodbye for now.  That may have been the case then, but is certainly is not the case now.  The time has finally come, the limit has been reached, and I can’t keep holding onto something that was never really there.

The reality is he went back to his girlfriend.  He went back to her and never told me, leaving me to keep hoping that one day, we would end up together.  Every time we would talk and I asked how life was, he never once told me they were together again.  It was as if he wanted to lead me on, to continue to receive my flirty attention.  I had to see on Facebook that they were still “in a relationship” and then to ask one of his friends if they got back together.  I knew the answer when I asked the question, but I needed it to be confirmed, I needed to hear someone say it.  

I wanted to cry, to throw up, but I was at work.  I had 4 hours left in the day and I had to hold it together as best I could.  I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t throw up, and I couldn’t drink, so I did the only other thing left.  I ate.  I went to the cafe downstairs and got greasy, nasty, super bad-for-me food, and I ate my feelings, even though I still felt sick to my stomach.  Focus on the french fries, focus on the ketchup, don’t focus on the fact that he lied to me.  A lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless.  

He is a selfish son of a bitch who was too much of a coward to tell me the truth, to tell me that he doesn’t want me, that I will never be able to be her.  We can’t be friends after this, not that we ever really were.  I told myself I got a few days, a few days to cry and be sad and learn how to breathe again.  Because, in that moment, it felt like a elephant was sitting on my chest, holding me down, causing this uncontrollable pain yet intense emptiness.

I somehow made it to 5pm with the anticipation of drinking wine until I threw up.  Chloe and Meg were coming over, so I did a frantic clean-up of my apartment, which held off my break down.  As I threw the 10 pairs of shoes I had collected from around my apartment into my closet, I lost it.  My back found the wall and the deep heaving sobs came rushing over me.  Between the rattles in my chest, I couldn’t hold back the “Why?s” and the “How could he?s”.  I once again found myself absolutely torn apart by a man, no not a man - a boy, who didn’t deserve my tears.   

I thought he was a good man, an honest man.  I thought that his intentions were never to hurt me.  I saw a kindness in him, a warmth that I had never seen in a man before.  Now, I think I saw what I wanted to see.  I built him up to be someone so much better that he really is, than he ever can be.  I stood up for him and risked friendships for him, and at the end of the day, he couldn't even tell me the truth.  But what was I expecting?  He lied to me when we first met, when he kissed me before he told me about his girlfriend.  I was too quick to forget that.        

I don’t know his reasons, and at this point they are mute.  He gave up his opportunity to tell me, to explain.  I don’t need to hear that she is the love of his life, or they have been together so long that he owes it to her to try.  Maybe she has decided to move to DC and make that sacrifice for him.  Or maybe, just maybe, he is going to move to be with her.  That would be the best thing that could ever happen to me.  If he left, and I never saw him again, then maybe I could heal.  

The part of me that still loves him hates the idea of never see him again, hates that this really is the end of what I thought could have been my great romance.  The much larger part of me that hates him can’t imagine seeing his face right now, can’t imagine not yelling at him if I did.  Then there is the small part of me that actually has found some reason.  This part of me knows not seeing him is the only way I will ever truly move on.  After a year and half of falling for him, falling deeper into a web of unrequited love, I am ready to come up for air.  

D will probably never read this, even though he has every opportunity to do so, just like he had every opportunity to tell me the truth.  Even though he will never read this I am going to take this opportunity to say goodbye.  

D,

This is really goodbye, no pleas that we are supposed to be friends can keep me this time.  Friends don’t lie to each other.  Friends don’t make each other feel like this.  I don’t regret loving you, some might say I should, but I don’t.  Every person you love teaches you something, helps you become who you are meant to be.  I wish you could have loved me back, again, I know I shouldn’t, but I really do.  I wish with all of my heart that you could have loved me, could have wanted more with me.  I want you to be happy, but much more than that, I want to be happy!  I deserve people in my life that contribute to my happiness, and that isn’t you.  I don’t need you, and one day soon I won’t want you anymore either.  One day you will be a distant memory, and I hope for that day with all of my being.  But, for now, I will have to settle for saying goodbye to you forever.  ~ H

      

Tuesday

The hardest part about trying to get over someone is seeing them before you are ready.  That moment you see them coming towards you in the crowded bar is like slow motion, there is no time to run, and you can't pretend that you didn’t see them because you already made accidental eye contact.  Last TI stopped mid-sentence when I saw D walking right towards me.  My heart stopped.

The first thing I noticed is that he cut his hair and I like it.  Why do I still wish I could run my fingers through it?  That is beside the point, even if we did talk about his hair cut.  He asked me where I have been.  My question of whether or not he would notice my absence was answered.  He asked when I was coming back to that certain social event that used to put us in the same place once a week.  I tried to be nonchalant (I think I succeeded), and said I had been busy and I would think about coming back.  He kept pushing the issue, but I didn’t cave.  As he got up from the table I was occupying, he asked again:

D: So I will see you Tuesday?

Me: Maybe, I will think about it.

D: So that is a yes.

Me: It’s a I’ll think about it.

D: I see how it is.  I cut my hair and you don’t find my charming anymore.

Me: (Jokingly) That isn’t it.  We both know the problem is I do still find you very charming.  I will see you later. (ending the subject, and dismissing him)

As he disappeared to another level of the bar, I hoped that would be all I would see of him.  Thinking that my last comment might have been enough to keep him away.  I was wrong.  About 30 minutes later, he came down the stairs and perched a stool across from where my table sat  - blocking my way to the bar.  When he was engaged in conversation, I decided to take the opportunity to slip to the bar and grab another cocktail.  As I squeezed by, he called me out for walking past without talking to him.  I made some comment along the lines of the bar calling my name.  

When I returned from the bar just a few short minutes later, he was suddenly all alone.  I told him I wasn’t ignoring him, I was just getting a drink.  We chatted for a few minutes before he decided to join some of our friends on trip to get pizza.  I passed and said goodbye.  He once again made a push for me to be at our social engagement.  I stuck with my maybe.  

I want to go!  I want to be around him, but I can’t.  I can’t control the word vomit that comes out of my mouth when I have had one too many glasses of wine.  I can’t help but want to pull him into me by the ends of his bow tie when he leaves it hanging, untied, from his collar.  I do still find him incredibly charming, and that is why I wasn’t ready to see him.   

Right now, thinking about it ties me in knots.  I didn’t want him to act like he misses seeing me, or being mad that I walked by without talking to him.  I want to be mad, I am mad, but why do I feel like I want to cry?  I know he doesn’t mean what I want him to by the things he says.  He doesn’t miss me, he misses the attention I have always given him.  Yet, I miss him.  Things come up that I want to talk to him about, but I can’t.  Tuesdays are the worst.  

I find things to do on Tuesdays so I don’t feel so tempted to go and see him.  Whether it is the gym or making dinner for friends, I keep busy.  One day Tuesday will be just another day with no significance, but that day isn’t this Tuesday.  

Him

Have you ever had that boy you just can’t shake?  No matter how awful he has been you still talk to him.  Its not that you love him, but you just can’t NOT be attracted to him.  I have one of those boys in my life right now.  I had a crush on him for months and then he finally bought me a drink, walked me home, and kissed me.  There were flirty texts, some more kissing, and then of course the bomb - he has a girlfriend.  Our social calendars put us in the same place once a week and it is torture.

I look at him and I can’t help but think about kissing him.  Why do I do that?  He has a girlfriend yet one look from him and my whole body reacts.  The look in his eyes makes my heart hurt.  I wish I could shake him, shake the want, shake the heartbreak that he ensues.  Everytime I think I am over it he pulls me back in.  He gets jealous or he flirts and I am right back where we started.  Sometimes I wish I was the kind of girl that didn’t care about a man’s relationship status.  But I am not. The guilt I feel from just flirting with him is stifling sometimes.  I could drown in the hurt and self loathing.  

I wish I knew what he was thinking, what he is feeling.  It's hard not knowing what someone that you think about all the time is actually thinking about you.  Do they ever even think about you at all? It makes me hate him, but yet not enough to stay away.  How come I can’t stay away?  

I didn’t even know I found glasses sexy. That damn bow tie!  When he unties it, leaving it hanging from his collar, it is my achilles heel.  I want to grab it and pull him into me by the tie.  Even though it has been months, our steamy make out session on my front steps flashes through my thoughts frequently.  I even sometimes think I can still feel the stinging of my swollen lips when my mind transports me back.  

What is worse than anything else is the thought of not seeing him.  I hate the idea of him not being there every week.  I am a masochist.  I would rather torture myself than not have him look at me with that spark in his eye.  Sometimes I wonder if it is all in my head, if he really just looks at me the way he looks at everyone else.  The reality is I was just a mistake for him.  Months ago when I was skinnier, he made the mistake of kissing me.  He is my weakness and I am his mistake.  I can’t believe I just said that, admitted that.  

I will one day shake him I am sure.  I will find someone to kiss me and mean it.  When I do he will not put me through turmoil.  I will not drown in self loathing.  I will just be happy, someday.