The Goldfish's Logbook

A year ago today Jane and I started officially dating. We'd started a couple weeks before, in truth, but it was one of her idiosyncracies that we wait until Februrary 1st. Losing her was easily the biggest disappointment of the year and the fact that it took me an unusually long time to get over her speaks to the depth of what I felt for her. Of course, in hindsight I realize we were not compatible. Neither of us could/would adapt to the other. Me because I believed I was right and therefore stubborn, she because . . . she couldn't. One of the big lessons I take away from being with her and corroborated by my first semester of teaching is my real need to grow in terms of empathy. Simply because I'm right doesn't justify being inflexible. Oftentimes human life doesn't submit to one standard and frankly, it's not always worth it to stick to that one 'right' path. Occasional detours into irrationality or weakness aren't the end of the world and spending that time and effort to accommodate others will help me to begin to understand perspectives that I would normally dismiss or judge out-of-hand.
I really thought we would've lasted more than six months. It felt to me like we had something strong enough to sustain us for longer than that. But it doesn't matter; the outcome would have been the same either way. At the very least I wish we could have salvaged a friendship out of the rubble of our relationship. I can't help but wonder why that didn't happen, seeing as how Jane is friends with so many of her earlier exes. I wonder if I did unknowingly hurt or offended her so much that even a platonic friendship was inconceivable. I guess I'll never know.
I hope she's found someone that makes her happy and satisfies all those fears and doubts she had. I could never tell if unhappiness dogged her or if it was I that created that feeling.

Once again, I can't sleep. I continue to swing between two trains of thought. I look back on my mistakes and wonder what I could have done differently, how could I have avoided losing her; avoided driving a wedge between us. I have many regrets about how I behaved. The weekend Layla died was a big one. The botched week we spent house-sitting together. How I made a point of resisting as she pushed me to say I loved her or to join her in daydreams about living together or the possibility of kids. I look back at moments like these and see how easy it would have been to have done the right thing but I was stubborn and did what I thought was 'right'. I agonize over these failings.
On the other hand I take the bitter medicine and try to convince myself that even if I'd made the best choices, our relationship would have collapsed eventually anyways. Jane is a slave to her psychology and her medication (willingly or unwillingly, it doesn't matter). Even though she cared about me so much that I was only the second man that she'd ever wanted to live with, that wasn't enough to overcome her biology. I loved her when she awake and truly present (her goofy antics and witty sass and intelligent sparkle) and I began to hate when she was asleep. Not only did it make me feel unimportant and interfered with so many of my aspirations for us, but it would also cast a long shadow on our waking time together. The migraines, her aches and pains, the nightmares, her slow metabolism which only served to further extend the effects of the medication; to me it seemed so obvious that many of her troubles were rooted in her dependence on these drugs. I wanted her to be healthy and alive and alert with me, not constantly narcoleptic and unhealthy. I could have educated myself on these matters of her psychology and these drugs, that might have made me more considerate and forgiving. But even if I had come to understand and accept that aspect of our relationship, I know I would have been unsatisfied with the type of relationship it was beginning to dictate. It would have closed the doors on things I wanted us to be able to do and how I wanted us to be. Even if I could have learned to live with it, I would have had to sacrifice much of what I wanted in order to keep her. Sooner or later, that would have ended us. As this relationship was nearing its end I thought that if we could just hang on until we were employed again, that would force Jane to assume a normal sleeping schedule and that would resolve my biggest concern about us. But then I think back to when we were both on a 9-5 schedule and realize the problem was still there. The rationale and the excuses were different, but it still came between us. So job or no job, the outcome would have been the same. I couldn't have accepted the life that would come with being with Jane and she couldn't change who she is.
When I can convince myself of that conclusion, it seems irrelevant to wonder if I could have truly become the man she wanted me to be, communicative and emotionally supportive and effusive. I don't think I could have ever satisfied those needs of hers. As I look at our relationship I realize that it placed an emphasis her desires and needs. It wasn't quite as severely unequal as the relationship I had with Liz, but it was unbalanced. From minor mundane matters such as whose music we listened to to larger decisions such as whose house we stayed at or whose family and friends we spent more time with. Granted, this imbalance could have stemmed from the possibility that I simply needed less than Jane. I felt at least that my demands were modest, consistent, and few. Also, the imbalance may have been my own fault. I was too eager to please Jane and make her happy so I may have prioritized her needs too much. To this day, I don't understand Jane's disinterest in me. She always said she wanted me to open up more but whenever I'd venture to share something with her that was important to me, she would take no interest in it or disparage it outright. She said my music sounded like women orgasming (while we always listened to her NIN and 90s playlist), she never read any of the books on my shelf (though I read multiple books of hers and her articles as well), she never wanted to watch, let alone play any of my games, even the one I said was the most beautiful one I'd ever played and had inspired me to put 40 hours into sewing a costume of. We watched her movies but none of mine. She declined my invitation to go to the theater to see a movie that reminded me of her. When Lilly and I cosplayed, she didn't once rouse herself to see my project as I was working on it or join the family on the day we wore them. The books I bought when we went to the bookstore she dismissed as being 'depressing'. It was like she was always apathetic or negative about what mattered to me. Is it any wonder I was reluctant to share with her?
She always wanted so much emotional affection and reassurance. Notes, texts, phone calls, emails, instant messages, presents, flowers, gestures. I didn't ask for any of that. I was touched by them and cherished them, but that's not what I wanted from her. I wanted to feel that I was important to her, that she was interested in me and respected me. But most of the time I felt subordinate to her needs, unrelenting as they were. I felt like I wasn't an equal partner in this relationship. I think that was the true root of my recurring frustration. We built the relationship to satisfy her. I'd sit through the painful nightly ministrations for her quirky satisfaction, I reduced my expectations in order to accommodate her minimal sex drive, I worked to incorporate her rational and irrational requests into my own behavior; the focus was on what she wanted/needed. It became more unbalanced in the denouement of our relationship as she began to pull away while I increased my efforts to woo her back. I could never dispel my frustration though, because subconsciously I was aware of the imbalance of effort and affection and respect. I wasn't consciously aware of it during our relationship and I'm kind of surprised about that. I would have thought I'd be keenly sensitive to such a situation after going through it with Liz. But I wanted to be with Jane so much more than I wanted to be with Liz and our good times together were so much better too, that I think that changed my perspective and heightened my tolerance to any inequity in our relationship. I don't know if I would have become consciously aware of this imbalance if we had stayed together. Perhaps so. That frustration was probably my coalescing awareness that this relationship wasn't fair. I helped make it unfair.
Jane made the correct decision when she asked me to stop coming to her shows. Her reasons are different than mine, but I agree that that was the proper course to take. Despite all my efforts to convince myself that this relationship was not sustainable or fulfilling for me, I still want to be with her. And that's why I shouldn't be with her, not even as a friend. Not now anyways. But I still can't help but wonder, What would have had to be different about us, for it to have worked? I can't help but feel that we were so close to being just right for one another. I feel that we almost had it and not knowing the answer keeps me from getting any rest.

I went to Jane's improv show tonight. I could cite many minor reasons for going, such as: she and her group are funny, I enjoy stand-up, she would appreciate the support and input, she invited me so it would be polite to go, I could use a laugh, etc. The underlying motive though was that I wanted to see her again, in any way, shape, or form. I wasn't 100% sure that this would be the best idea, but I psuedo-rationalized it by saying that it would be good for my recovery to see her doing what she does best, without me.
I had a few drinks on the way down. Like I said, I don't normally drink when I'm depressed but I thought I might need some outside help to dismiss the dark clouds that have been following me, something to mute the negative thoughts that have been playing on loop. I got to the club about 10 minutes early. Nan was waiting in the front. We made small talk about their pets, Jane's new job, Nan's health, and such, while ignoring the elephant in the room. Nan was glad I had come and expressed that Jane would also be thankful. The usher called everyone in and we took our seats in the theater. [“When I read your post I felt terrible.”] As we were waiting for the show to start, Nan asked me, “Are you two really over?”
“According to Jane, we are.” Despite the relaxation of the alcohol and my commitment to be strong, I could feel the tears wanting to well up.
Nan continued, “Jane would kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but she says that she really misses you. Now she's got no one to share with.” She said more but it was hard to make it out with the music playing overhead.
I merely nodded. It didn't seem appropriate to share with her how devastated I was feeling. She began to say something else when the houselights went down.
The show started and the improv groups were excellent. The challenger team went first and they were on point. Fast, creative, and animated, I really liked their work, though they did change topics very abruptly which I felt lost the audience momentarily each time. Jane's group did as well as they ever do; Sally (the team's sparkplug) seemed a bit subdued tonight. It was a close match. I filled out my ballot for the challenger but abstained from turning it in. It turned out that Jane's team won which means they'll be returning next week. So I may come back for that.
After the show everyone moved to the lobby. I sat with Nan and we talked about the show for a few minutes as we waited for the comedians to come out. The conversation ebbed and I considered leaving before Jane came out. I could easily have said that I needed to catch my train back home. But I knew that Nan has trouble walking and that Jane would want to pull the car around, but this wasn't the sort of neighborhood where a girl should be walking alone after dark. So I stayed. Eventually Jane emerged and we three talked of comedy for a bit. I then walked Jane to her car. We avoided any delicate topics, mainly just talked about the show. She thanked me for coming and said that she was a bit surprised that I had. I shrugged it off, saying that, “Regardless of what's going on with us, you and your group are really funny.” We got to her car and I told her to take care. She asked me to give Lilly a kiss for her.
As soon as we separated I could acutely feel that cavity inside of me. I don't know if this venture was good or bad for me. I'm home now and that sadness is still there just as before.

It hurts all over again. I . . . was holding out some hope. When I had sought to talk to her shortly after the break-up, she said that she needed time to make this decision, without being swayed by emotions or the sadness of break-up. She said we'd 'talk soon'. As of a couple days ago, her Facebook status still showed us in a relationship so I thought she was still considering things. But I looked just now and it says 'single'. Just like that. One word and it's done. I keep looking at that word, dumbfounded. She didn't say anything further to me, there wasn't any notification; I've just been deleted. Is that it? Is that really it?
I'm still in shock how quickly this happened. We had difficulties sure, but the speed and magnitude of her change of heart has stunned me. Five days before we broke up, she was still asking if I could come over. Three days before we broke up she seemed happy when I came over. The day before we broke up we had good times, slept in the same bed, shared our meals, shared our time, shared our shower . . . there was nothing I saw that said this was our last week/day/hour together. And in the space of four days I've been deleted. I haven't heard from her at all. I just . . . can't comprehend how things changed so quickly. I mean, was I truly so oblivious that I didn't see any indication that this was it, that our time had run out? Had she really given up on our relationship so long ago that once the last words were said, she could instantly and dramatically flee? I thought we both cared for each other but apparently I was a fool. I was still committed to something that had become a hollow act for the other person. I didn't think I was so easily disposed of.
If I cared for someone so strongly and without any true fear right up to the very last minute, how can I trust my feelings in the future? If I was caring for someone who wasn't actually there anymore, what does that say about the depth and sophistication of my relationships? That I can be content with a charade? I just don't understand any of this. I thought we meant something to each other. How could I have missed the truth by so much?

I came to a realization tonight. As I was going through my phone, beginning to delete the texts between me and Jane, I could see a trend emerging from our interactions. Jane was almost always forthcoming and the first to share emotion or any other sign of caring, while I would always react. If it happened to be a emotional concern, I would often deflect or downplay or otherwise ignore it. That's how I created a distance between us. When I wasn't getting what I wanted or what I thought I deserved, I used excuses like her OCD or her sleeping habits to exempt me from having to understand her, or to undermine the legitimacy of any concerns she had. I always used those things against her, rather than trying to understand and accept them. And then it struck me that these were similarities to what I learned in the end of my relationship with Liz. (And it manifests in both my professional and personal life too. I "ignore" what I'm afraid of confronting, but spin it so that I have a legitimate reason to ignore it. Whether it's the check-engine light in my truck, my workplace situation, my financial situation, etc etc. I act as if these matters are trivial when in fact I'm just afraid of dealing with them. And in the same way, I've been ignoring Jane's pleas.)
The counselor had helped me to see how emotionally detached I was, how I learned that as a coping mechanism in the adversarial environment of my childhood. In order to protect myself from being hurt, I would invent or rationalize to myself that I didn't care. That something wasn't important or without merit. When Jane came to me with her unsatisfied needs, I would pay lip service and maybe half-heartedly attempt some change in behavior, but in my core, I held grudges. Her true concerns were rooted in her emotional heart. Yes, she had superficial needs, which truly aren't significant and fooey on me for using them as ammunition against her. For distilling them into animosity. All that Jane really wanted from me was for me to share my heart with her. And I didn't. I was insecure about letting in someone again, I was embarrassed to admit these feelings, I didn't trust what I felt, I didn't want to risk being rejected, I feared that I wouldn't be able to live up to the commitment and expectation of “love”, etc. And so I latched onto minor grievances between us and erected them as barriers to our growth as a couple. Jane has come to me with nothing but an open heart but I've resisted matching her openness and caring. Because of fear and insecurity. I held Liz at bay too. Back then, I prided myself on being cold and rational about our troubles. Now I see that all I was doing was using my rationale to invent defenses against the allegations levied against me. Somehow fear crept into that relationship. Yes, she had issues, but I carry some blame for sabotaging us. And I've almost done it again. Jane wasn't asking for anything truly beyond my means; I denied it to her because (although I would never admit it), some part of me would never surrender, would always hold back to protect me. Even though she's been in more relationships than I, I was the one acting jaded and selfish. Me.
When I connected these dots, I wasn't crying anymore. I wasn't upset. This was a revelation. It probably came too late to save Jane and I, but I knew I had to do something. My failing in this relationship was not committing fully to it. I always held back, I was never fully honest, I always used logic or excuses to excuse me from committing and loving. Now my logic was telling me, “Cody, leave her be. She's made her decision. It's wrong to contact her now. You had your chance, it's too late. She doesn't love you, it's over.” But I can't trust my logic. Any of those could be excuses that are rooted in fear or insecurity. I'm a clever human, it is well within my ability to deceive myself. The only way I can know something for sure is to act according to my true feelings.
So I left my bedroom, walked out of the house, and got into my truck. I didn't have keys to lock the door behind me, I didn't even have pants. I knew if I stopped or turned around for any reason, I'd use it as an excuse not to act. I had to tell Jane that I now understood what I'd done wrong. All this time I'd been holding her at fault to some degree. Now I could see it was largely my fault. I knew this information would not change her mind. But I HAD TO tell her. This is what I felt now. Not sadness, or anger, but conviction. And a vow that I would not allow myself to do this any more. That I would act fully and truly according to my feelings for her. Even though we're over now I had to share this with her.
I started driving to Denton with many doubts as to whether this was the right or wrong thing to do. But I wasn't going to let doubts stop me now. I already greatly regret what I've done these past six months; I'm not going to regret not seizing upon this opportunity here and now.
And so I drove. Eventually I had to admit that I might catch her at a bad time, or cast myself in a bad light if I showed up without warning at her house, pantsless and wearing my “Fuck Y'all, I'm from Texas” shirt. So I texted her when I was halfway there. “Are you up?”
The next five minutes were tense. If she didn't reply, then this was all for naught. The epiphany was truly too late. Then came, “Yes”.
I told her I wanted to talk and she acceded to texting. That wasn't what I'd hoped for, but it would have to do, so I pulled over somewhere in Prosper. I was torn between respecting her wishes for time and distance to come to terms with things, and making her understand that I saw things differently now and accepted full responsibility for my actions. This wasn't about asking her to take me back. That's too much to hope for now. Even though this was probably all out-of-line, I did my best to unflinchingly admit what I'd done and describe how I believed I could overcome it. I struck the best balance I could see between respecting her needs right now and my own need to answer for my actions. Jane was graciously understanding, yet firm. After an hour of long texts, I felt that I'd said as much as I could expect to, in these circumstances. I bade her goodnight and turned around and headed home.

All day I swung between sadness and barren emotional exhaustion. Now though I feel energized with purpose. It feels good to act. Whatever happens now, I won't regret. I've acted with honesty and authenticity. I've laid all my cards on the table. If I lose Jane, well, I've learned a valuable lesson at a dear price. If I win her back . . . there might be a chance for me to grow into a better man after all.



P.S. Part of me warns that all this might just be desperate, addled logic resulting from my emotional state and that I shouldn't trust my instincts right now. But all I can really be certain of right now is that the past six months of me deliberately navigating through our relationship led us to ruin. Reasoning is not to be trusted right now.

Tonight was the end of Jane and I. A month ago, we'd been on the verge of breaking up. All the signs that I saw indicated that it was over, but sheer chance, or maybe my tears, bought us a reprieve. Jane wasn't sure how she felt about our prospects. I still wanted us to be together but I was very frustrated and virtually out of hope; if her heart was no longer in it then there was no hope.
In the month since, I was tugged between two impulses. To either begin withdrawing to protect myself and place all burden of saving the relationship on her, or to increase my efforts to reach out and try to revive what we'd had. I like to think I did the latter, though the frustration was still simmering beneath and at times I was selfish.
I've been through this month before; still caring for another person but terribly uncertain how they felt and doubting the permanence of what we had. Part of me knew that real changes would take time, the other part was insistent to see quick improvement in order to merit my increased efforts. To be selfish or selfless.
I'd been over at Jane's for three days. I'd found myself acutely missing her the weekend before and came up on Tuesday. It wasn't as if our time together was ominous or foreboding; I believe we had as much fun as we normally do. No physical intimacy and a dearth of affection, though, that much is certain. I was exceptionally happy when she kissed me goodbye this afternoon when she went shopping with her mom. It had been the only affection that she initiated over the three days and I was starved for any. We bummed around town Tuesday, showered together and went to her comedy show on Wednesday, and endured a family gathering at her house on Thursday. Pleasant times and some trying times, nothing out of the ordinary. My sleep schedule had become as screwed up as hers so we were staying up late together. I'd tried to initiate intimacy on Tuesday night to no avail and I wanted to try again tonight. I knew the chances were virtually nill but I was tired of letting pessimism dictate my actions.
Relatively early in the evening though, Jane asked my thoughts on the month since our last difficult talk. I replied that the limbo had been tough to bear, but overall, things were good. Jane confided that although she recognized and appreciated my increased efforts, she still did not feel any of the . . . romance that she once had. Jane commented that my emotional response tonight seemed lesser than when we'd broached the subject of breaking up last month. The idea still tore at me, but having had a month to contemplate it, I could hold my composure a bit better. That was the only difference. The conversation descended into the same pessimistic outlook as last time. There wasn't much I could say. This decision depended on what Jane felt, the words had to come from her.
Last month I was certain we would break up. The lack of tears or emotion from her (while I was a wreck) looked like undeniable proof that her heart wasn't in it any more. If I'd had my truck that night, I would've forced the break-up regardless of her diplomacy. But as it was, I had to stay there and that compelled us to talk through the crisis.
I thought tonight would be a re-hashing of that last conversation, but then Jane finally brought herself to say what I'd been fearing and expecting. We didn't have a future together. She was as calm and kind and apologetic as she could be, but it still tore me up. All our plans, all my hopes for us, all that I'd wanted for me, for her, for us . . . it was gone now. The photo album I'd made for our future trips, our house, her perfect baby name (Arbor), her meatball costume, it was nothing now.
I know we weren't the perfect fit for one other and I was stubborn about changing to meet her needs but I really wanted us to find happiness in each other. I wish I'd understood her concerns when she first brought them up months ago, rather than dismissing them as being implausible for so early in a relationship. I'm still stunned and ashamed that I lost or squandered whatever she felt for me so quickly. Despite our significant differences this was the best relationship I'd been in and yet, within the space of two or three months I'd done irreparable damage to us and didn't even know it.
I didn't want to end up as just another name on her list, but there I am. I failed us. Why couldn't I have made it work?


I gathered up my things, trying with some success to keep it together. My clothes, toiletries, my mug, all the short roots I'd put down here. As I scanned the house for more of my belongings it hit me harder. The painting Lilly had made for her, the desk we'd built together, the painting we'd made . . . This was the last time I'd be here. What had been my half-home with her just a few hours earlier was now a place I didn't belong. She brought me my shirts that she had become her sleep-shirts. I wouldn't be able to wear them, but neither could she.
Once that was done, I hugged her for the last time. Her warmth, her size, her smell, her feel. There was no way I could hold onto any of these feelings, they would be gone soon. This was the very last moment that she would be 'my Jane'.
“I'm sorry,” she said and I felt one warm tear fall on my arm. That meant the world to me. It meant that somewhere, at least in some small way, she did care for me. It meant that, at least for a time, we had something meaningful.
“No,” I said, “I'm sorry.” I cried and kissed her on the top of her head just like our clumsy first night together. As much as I was hurting right now, the feeling of being a failure was just as strong. “I hope you find the right man for you. I just wish it had been me.” I couldn't say any more than that. I couldn't hold onto her any longer. It was done.

I miss her so much.

The forecast was anticipating snow all weekend. I was lucky enough to get out of school early and made my way to Denton where I would be snowed-in with Jane. Traffic was terribly slow, more than doubling the drive time, but fairly easy and safe.
Jane was sick with a cold so we wouldn't have been going out even if the weather had been agreeable. We made a nice dinner with groceries I picked up on the way. We also had a fire and later on had some quality time playing Uno with Nan.
Saturday evening the conditions were favorable enough that we went out for a late lunch and to fritter away time on the Square. The bookstore was closed so we went to the coffee shop instead. We must've stayed in that coffee shop for at least an hour, all for just one mug of hot chocolate.
The most fun that evening came from when we were walking through the Square, be it for the purpose of taking selfies in front of the lights or just returning to our car. The sidewalks were icy and Jane was deathly afraid of slipping and falling so she kept a fierce grip on my arm the entire time. I couldn't help but tease her a little bit. Although I protested against taking the selfies I had to admit that this felt like a special moment and I was glad we were able to capture it.

Inspiration for Jane's Valentine gift/card didn't finally strike until Thursday afternoon, of course. I focused on that project all evening but had trouble with the gear system. I gave up on that some time after midnight.
I left school early in the afternoon so that I could throw together a replacement card and then heard out to Jane's place. I took the train this time to avoid the frustration of rush hour and to save a little gas. Jane picked me up at the end of the line and we went out to dinner before heading to a friend's place for game night. I dozed on the drive down; I was still fatigued from my efforts the night before. I was a bit nervous about meeting new people but soon got over that once it became apparent that we were all just nerds of different stripes. Hell, one veteran was wearing a hoodie from an anime convention. And the drinks probably helped too. We started off the night with video games, then some YouTube, then some Cards Against Humanity and then ... ?
Even though I'd downed a Five-Hour Energy Drink just before the gathering, I started fading about 11 pm. Drunk Jane was cuddly and fun at first but kept chastising me for yawning and incessantly egging me on to go do pull-ups with the other guys. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open and stay somewhat engaged; I certainly did not want to go exercise. Her needling chipped away at my good mood. Then she texted me a 'secret'. I hadn't hugged/kissed her at the train stop and she told me that she'dd momentarily interpreted it as a sign that I wasn't interested in her anymore. I don't know why the hell she thought this was the right time or place to discuss that. Even if it was an irrational thought that could quickly be dismissed in normal conversation, it wasn't anything we could air out right then and there. So all of these factors had me ready to leave the party ASAP but Jane wasn't in any hurry to leave even though she started dozing off after awhile.
When we got home Jane was mostly sober, according to her own words. Awaiting us on the kitchen table was a bouquet of flowers that hadn't been there before. Jane asked me if it was my doing. I said no. Then she roused Nan from her room and asked her as well. Nan deferred responsibility for the flowers, possibly trying to foist credit for the flowers onto me. Jane kept going back and forth asking which one of us had done it. It was funny to see her get so worked up about it. She seemed eager to thank me for the supposed gift, but I wasn't about to lie. Eventually though Nan spilled the beans.

Saturday afternoon we went to go do couples' painting at a studio on the Square. It was BYOB so we brought along a bottle of wine (though we should've brought our own Brushes too, since the didn't give us many to work with). I got pretty pumped once we were inside and put on our aprons and took our seats with the easels and paints and brushes at the ready. We got to painting and pretty soon I was so focused on the painting that I hardly acknowledged the instructor's directions or bothered with the wine other than to slake my thirst. It seemed (to me at least) that we were the only couple that was genuinely having fun. Many of the guys there were making obvious that they weren't there by choice. They looked bored, apathetic, or downright sullen. And their women were so intent on trying to evoke some romantic creative experience or something. Jane and I on the other hand were happy as clams. The two hours elapsed more quickly than I expected. I was painting right up until the last second.

I'd made the mistake of assuming the train ran on Sundays. It didn't. That meant we had to scramble a bit Sunday morning. Jane was kind enough to leave her place a couple hours early to drop me off at my truck so that I could keep my tutoring appointment that afternoon. After I was done with that and Jane was done with her class we re-convened at my house. We didn't do much else other than eat, nap, and talk. When she had to unexpectedly leave that night because she had forgotten her medicine I was sincerely upset. I'm getting really accustomed/fond(?) of seeing her on a daily basis (or as near as we can manage).

This was an easy weekend. I brought my tools along as we'd planned to modify Jane's desk. We were also planning to cook together and even mentioned massages. All in all we had plenty of fun stuff to keep us occupied.
I went up there directly after tutoring Friday evening. I was rip-roaring hungry by the time I got there so we got straight to cooking. The recipe was fairly easy and we had a pretty tasty dinner with Nan. Afterwards we settled down on the couch and burned the last of the firewood. We talked, completely sober this time. As she is wont to do, Jane often prefaced her words with, "This is going to sound so weird . . ." and concluded them with " . . . I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." It's amusing how she's still worried that she'll scare or offend me somehow. Anyways, I remember that we got onto the topic of children; not ours per se, just in theory. Jane described her thorough beliefs concerning conception, reproductive rights, and parenting. Being a male, I downplayed my own opinions on the matter and expressed how I was open to both a future with kids or without kids. Jane commented how this was the most that I'd ever spoken in a single conversation. I laughed. Of course I'd participate in such a deep and important conversation. Small talk, on the other hand, doesn't come quite so easily. I don't recall what else we did for the rest of the night, probably more talking.
I missed my cue/opportunity for sex the following morning. Once we were out of bed we went to a yummy hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant for lunch and ran a couple of errands. Even going to the drugstore was pleasant with her company. It was a cold and rainy day so we weren't able to work on her desk after all. At home Jane took a nap and to my surprise, I succumbed as well. Although I'd told Katherine I'd be back home that Saturday afternoon, I didn't actually have any reason to be back in Plano. Of course I still wanted sexy funtime so I was quite willing to extend my stay at Jane's for another night.
After the nap Jane and Nan headed out to go see Paula Poundstone, leaving me at the house to grade papers, play video games, and keep the pets silent company. We had a belated dinner after they got back. That meal proved to be inadequate so we wound up going to Denny's after midnight.
Even after taking our late bedtime into account, Jane slept in especially late the next morning. I got up a little before eleven and was mildly displeased to see the minutes and hours slide by until Jane woke up at 1:30. I had tutoring that afternoon so I wouldn't be able to stick around for too long. Jane woke up nauseated and with a head ache, brought on in part by the late night meal, I guess? That was unfortunate. Even after rushing to get ready, we only had enough time for a quick lunch before parting ways.

Jane will be staying over at our house Tuesday and Wednesday, which should be fun/interesting. Plus I won't have to wait an entire week to see her again! Hopefully I can keep the entropy of this place at bay while she's here. And I won't/shouldn't keep her all to myself this time. I should let her get to spend time with my family. It'd be weird if she were here for two nights and didn't.

If there's one word that I'd use to describe my feelings about my relationship with Lindsay, it would be 'frustrated'. I know I haven't written about us since our high point in July. Our time together since then has given me plenty to dwell on; nothing to brag about. Lindsay is significantly different from my past girlfriends. As I mentioned previously, she seemed distant or indifferent during our courtship. That much has persisted even though we're “officially” boyfriend and girlfriend now. I . . . believe I had the good/bad luck to meet her when she had no horse to ride. The first month we were together, although I still sensed a lack of interest/initiative, we would spend the afternoon in downtown Denton, or a couple days over the 4th of July weekend with her parents and her place, or the evening together at the movies and her place; I thought it was as much as could be expected given the physical distance between our homes. Since then though, our time together is usually limited to about 4 hours together, the evening typically ending when Lindsay asks me to leave (politely but frankly), for whatever seemingly trivial reason. I'm listing them below to the best of my memory, just so I can step back and see if there's a pattern or common thread.

7/18: This weekend I had the house all to myself (for the first time ever) and I cleaned up since Lindsay would be coming over to work on cosplay; I was prepared for her to spend the night. She came over in the early afternoon and we worked for a few hours. Her parents invited us out for dinner. While we were out with them, her mom asked Lindsay if she'd be spending the night at their house, to which she replied in the affirmative. That wasn't the response I expected, but I thought she might've been caught off-guard by the question and hopefully didn't really intend to go over. After dinner we watched the Flapjack DVD. Lindsay snuggled with me on the couch. This was the only time she's ever initiated physical affection, before or since. I took this as a promising sign, but as soon as the DVD ended around 9 pm, Lindsay excused herself despite my expressed dissatisfaction and headed to her parent's.
7/25: I hardly remember this weekend. Lindsay was only free Sunday evening. I went over and we went out to Texas Roadhouse (?) for dinner. Not too long after we got home, Lindsay mentioned how she needed personal time in preparation for going back to work the next day. It was a school night so I didn't really press the matter; I hadn't anticipated that I'd be spending the night anyways.
8/1: We went out to see the Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Lindsay was house-sitting her parent's house for the night which was relatively close to my own residence. I thought this would make it easy to parlay the early date into an extended visit at her place. As we were walking out to our cars after the movie, I asked if she wanted to do anything else. Her response was No, the dogs were waiting on her. That seemed like such a non-excuse that it confused me long enough that I ran out of time to push the point.
8/8: I went up to Denton Saturday evening and we promptly went to dinner (Chuy's) once I arrived. When we got back to her place, Lindsay started working on cosplay. I refrained and just tried to engage her in conversation, i.e. hanging out. If we were only spending a handful of hours with each other once a week, I wanted that time to count. When we work on cosplay together, we work separately. After she called attention to the fact that I wasn't doing anything, I did get to work on cosplay. At one point I was helping her with her work, marking her leggings while she was wearing them. With my face not too far from her crotch, I mentioned that it'd been a long time since I'd been down in that area. No response from her. She stated that I could stay till 10 pm. She wanted to go to bed early since she had an early start the next morning. As we wrapped up our work for the evening, I mentioned how it was distracting to work on cosplay at her place, since I spent half my time trying to think of how to seduce her into the bedroom. Again, no response from her. The time came for me to leave. I was a good sport about it since she'd made it clear beforehand, even though of course I wanted to spend the night.
Still, I was disappointed. I knew I'd just mull over the evening's events if I went home, so I took up my co-workers' offer to go out to a hookah bar that night. I would drink instead of mope. During the drive from Denton to Richardson, I restrained myself from falling into the same feeling-sorry-for-myself and bitter rut that I often fell into when Liz and I were no longer intimate. Rather than just dumping all the fault at Lindsay's feet for why we weren't being intimate or growing closer, I interpreted the situation as being evidence that I had yet to learn how to make Lindsay feel comfortable enough for that level of affection. I took responsibility and I felt proud of myself for not reacting selfishly or immaturely to this evening. Then while I was at the bar with my friends, I noticed that Lindsay was posting to Facebook a little after midnight. This perturbed me. I'd been willing to take Lindsay's words at face value despite my doubts and now it seemed like she was being disingenuous if not outright lying about wanting to go to bed early.
8/15: I was still disappointed and dwelling on the previous weekend, so I didn't bother to contact Lindsay this week and set up a date. I didn't think she'd mind or notice, considering that this was her period weekend and she'd taken that weekend off the month before.
8/22: Lindsay had once said that I could use her place as a cosplay refuge and escape from the distractions at my house. As this was the last weekend before Dragon*Con I assumed that we'd be spending the whole weekend at her place, cramming and planning for the event. I told her as much after she said that she would only be free Sunday. I didn't know, but her family had taken her out to a nice restaurant Saturday night in anticipation of her birthday (the 25th). I like to think I would've/should've been welcome. Since my birthday is the 31st, we had agreed to just celebrate our birthdays at Dragon*Con so I hadn't planned any birthday-oriented gestures for this weekend. I felt like I'd been denied a significant occasion to be a boyfriend.
I came over Sunday mid-afternoon and we worked on cosplay. I was undecided if I should bring up my concerns/frustrations with Lindsay, just before we were about to go on vacation. We went out for a good dinner. When we got back, I suggested that we watch a movie that she'd just bought and been raving and I hadn't seen yet. I figured a couple hours of digesting and cuddling would be a pleasant and realistic expectation. She said she had already planned to watch it tomorrow and that she needed her weekly personal time before work on Monday. I was disappointed but not surprised.

In the last two weeks that I went without seeing her, I'd been trying to assess just what our relationship is. I've moved beyond just fixating on the lack of intimacy. After all, it may all be due to something as simple as it hasn't been convenient for her. However, it's not so easy to dismiss what seems like a huge difference in what we need and how much we need from one another. I know we're both introverts; that doesn't make things any easier. I knew it would take some effort, but I thought that with enough persistence I could find my way into her sphere of comfort and our connection would grow. I know that between work and her family and her riding commitments, she doesn't have much free time. Yet, it seems to me like she's consciously keeping me at arm's distance. Either that or her appetite for having a boyfriend is satisfied by just a few hours of platonic company once a week. If so, that doesn't come anywhere near to satisfying my needs.
I'd been tempted to ask Lindsay if she wanted to attend Dragon*Con as friends rather than boyfriend and girlfriend. That would spare me any further frustration or unmet expectations. But no matter how I could think of to bring it up, it always sounded to me either unnecessarily confrontational or insecure/needy once I tried to outline my reasoning.
As I left this evening I asked her (in a half-joking manner) if she was really ready to spend a 4-day weekend with me. After all, I wouldn't be leaving at the end of the night while we were there. She chuckled. There was a kernel of truth in my question. I know that we'll get along better while at Dragon*Con. It'll be a vacation and frankly I'll be inescapable. If she wants to keep her distance from me at D*C, it'll be obvious. I'm hoping for any sort of break-through while at the same time reminding myself that I shouldn't allow one fun vacation weekend to erase these concerns of mine. I don't see this relationship persisting if things continue the way they are.