Breaking Trojans

Imagining conversations is healthy.  It prepares you for the worst someone has to offer and gives you a chance to say all things you'd want to say in that perfect, stable, internal environment.

Having conversations can be a real bitch.  Piecemeal, stilted, lacking, and as twisted as the emotions within.

So I've met this guy.  I'm not sure I am liking the getting to know you process and I am Amazed he sticks around for more.  I spend a lot of time wondering,  'Is he practice?'  I'm not intending him to be.  I'm not being calculated.  I'm wondering how I'm supposed to navigate unfamiliar waters.

I'm an open book.  I'm honest about where I've been, what I'm working through. 

I wonder, do I really like this guy?  Or not?  Do I even have to know?

Yesterday he helped me jail break a bad mood.  One that, unknowingly to him, had been triggered by interaction with him. 

John left Trojans behind. 

I have pinpointed the moment in my psyche and the trigger and I understand it. 

I was initially bad company yesterday.  I'd gone to work, lunch with my clients afterwards, home.  My sons hadn't done a thing I'd asked them to and I could see my Harpy Bitch becoming the lead role in our day.

He sent a text, then just went ahead and called to spare us the energy of having to type in little text boxes what we could more efficiently just Say to each other. 

He wanted to spend time with me.  Within I question that from moment to moment and find I get moody.  At least I did yesterday.  What's odd is, yesterday, his calling to actually spend time with me, didn't initially make me feel better.

He rescued my sons from the Harpy Bitch and took me to a local, heavily used shopping area.  The parking garage did nothing to ease my anxiety and moodiness.  It was like a war zone.  Finally we managed to park with out being murdered and walked out into the social swarm.

It felt threatening to me.  He wanted to hold my hand.  Something I'd wanted the night before became something overwhelming for me.  In my mind a hundred thoughts and feelings stormed through me in response to a simple and normal and comforting act of attraction.  I held his hand but it was awkward.

I couldn't fight the flight feeling.  I'll admit, part of it was all the people.  Part of it was my awful mood.  Part of it was fear.  Fear of moving one more step forward with this guy.  Fear of being seen with him by someone who had some connection to John and being judged by them.  And then anger.  Anger!  I've been through so much bullshit with John, suffered so much loss.  Sacrificed so much for so long.  No one has the right to judge me.  I was totally innocent and sincere in my love for him.  Memories of the memorial, the way I was left open and vulnerable to others with out John's buffering me and protecting me from the toxic assholes he knew slapped me in my face at that moment of simply trying to step forward.

This guy is easy going.  He knows what he wants and he's Normal. 

I have little experience with normal however much I crave to experience it.

He mentioned a movie, perfect solution.  We chose a horrible movie to watch.  We decided the parking garage was the possible indicator of suffering.  It was funny to us.  And, it worked.  It got me out of my head.  I began to relax.  Pain and Gain.  The ending was the best part.  We talked about the movie for a decent chunk of time after leaving.  I called my sons, we picked up Chinese food and came home to watch Avenger's, eat, then we played Cribbage.  I won.  I usually do.

Later we walked around outside just talking.  He lets me just talk to him. 

I watch myself and my responses.  I wonder how much I like him.  Sometimes a lot, sometimes I look at him and I'm attracted, sometimes not as much. 

Trojans.  These mental barriers and pitfalls John planted with in me over several years.  I see them open up and fuck with me.  I see them warp and twist and sometimes breed.  I'm killing them off constantly, I herd them, contain them, get trampled by them.  I try everything I can to recognize them and eradicate them.

Right now there are two me's.  The post apocalyptic me and the new me.  There is the one that still responds to my past and feels weakened and afraid and defensive and obligated.  And there is the 'Fuck that Shit move on you do not owe Anyone Anything, Screw them do what you Want' me.

The second me is growing stronger step by step.

Yesterday I felt unsure he even wanted to hang out with me... then understanding he's normal and was allowing me to work, enjoy lunch with my clients after their appointment, and was hoping I'd call and want to spend time with him.  Then he came to the rescue and helped me get out of my Harpy Bitch mode, gave me the opportunity to leave my sons to their chores and their Saturday with out ruining their day.  Then the evening was really nice. 

He scored big points playing Black Jack with my youngest son (no bets, just teaching my son gambling as a future profession isn't going to be wise because he's not as great as he thought he was) ... and Cribbage with me and my oldest. 
I question what's happening.  I wonder if I'll date other guys or not. 

It's just so weird and mixed up.  I feel pissed off at John for dying.  If it were just a break up I could date with out the hang ups.  Then I'm grateful (in a sense) he did because the break is so final and all I'm doing now is nothing but moving on...

I wish the Trojans were dead.  I wish I could talk to my friend about this but I'm scared to say I've met someone and tell her what I am going through.  I need her because no one knows as well as she does what I'm going through... but I'm afraid.  Will she be disappointed?  I haven't even gotten to June.  I'd set this mental goal for closure.  June.  Scatter John's ashes.  Put the letters through the shredder and bury them in the shoreline.  Let the sea have him.  Let the sea take part of me.  I know he'd still be there, but these rituals help.  And this guy shows up from out of no where.  He wanted to see me again after that dinner thing and my friend helped it along.  My friends want me to live again.  I want to live again.

Am I breaking rules?  I get pushed around by this thought and I get angry.  I'm trying to go with how I feel, trying to allow myself to experience good people and good moments.  Trying to heal.