Celibacy! Is! The! Latest! Fad!

Everyone should do it! (Or rather -- NOT do it, ahahahaha!)

He called on Tuesday night, right? And though we usually trade phone calls on alternating nights, I didn't call on Thursday night because, hello, I was at a concert? In Madison Square Garden? In which two Frenchmen dressed in skin tight white jeans told us, "We love you"? And which included lots of flashing lights, to which Joiner leaned over and said, "Um, I think I'm going to have a seizure"?

So he called tonight. And I almost did not call him back, because hello, I am so fucking tired after helping move Joiner to New York and unloading all her crap from the UHaul by ourselves and being unable to sleep more than 6 hours because of the light pouring into her posh one-bedroom on the Upper West Side at 7:20 am this morning.

But you know I did, because hello, I love drama.

It's true. My name is hkinseoul, and I love to whine. And what better subject to whine about than a man who says -- you guessed it -- that sex is something he wants to have only during a longterm serious relationship, and he has concerns about our compatibility (which he thinks is being minimized by the intimacy caused by sex), so he doesn't want to do it anymore unless he's decided that he does want a longterm serious relationship with me.

So I asked, "So what is the difference between a longterm serious relationship and the buildup or the figuring out period before the longterm serious relationship? What do you do that's different in one than the other? What does that look like to you? What does that mean?"

He doesn't know.

So I say, "I'm going to take a stab at it -- does it mean that we spend more time with each other during the day? Doing activities that aren't horizontal? Does it mean that we see each other more than twice a week? Does it mean that I meet some of your friends and you meet some of mine? Because I'd like to do those things too. This relationship hasn't moved forward in the past 4 weeks because we haven't done any of those things."

I also say, "I am so angry with you."

"Why?"

"Because this is the exact conversation we had last month at this time. When you decided you weren't going to have sex with me the last time. And then you got some clarity -- and where did that go, by the way? -- and then you started sleeping with me again ... and that was why?"

"Because I'm weak?"

I closed my eyes in disbelief. I think that was the point at which he said, "You know, I really love the way you communicate with me." I almost threw the phone across the room, but stopped myself by counting to 10, after which I said in a controlled tone, "I am trying. So. Hard."

I don't know, I guess I am in a loopy, loopy mood, because it all seems kind of funny to me. I mean, I am still really angry and frustrated at Scientist, and that came out during the rest of our 2-hour talk, but it was a controlled kind of fury that manifested in sharp, humorous remarks that seemed to spur more conversation than not.

I know it seems incredible that I am putting up with his bullshit -- and it IS bullshit, and I recognize that -- but part of what keeps me in this (I just realized) is that I feel able to be this smart, funny, wise person with Scientist, on a different, higher level than with anyone else. I guess he makes me feel smart, funny and wise, even as he also makes me feel insecure, angry, and jerked around. He tells me that I'm brilliant and articulate and smokin' hot (finally! a man who appreciates me for my body rather than my mind!), and because he himself is academically pretty frickin' brilliant, his comments carry for me a weight and meaning that have some kind of ... value to me.

When my ex used to compliment me, I guess I never really believed him -- or rather, I never really thought he had a fair basis for comparison, not knowing the same Ivy League types I did. How could he know how smart I was, when he couldn't compare me to the really smart people I felt intimidated by in class?

With Scientist, it's different. He just seems to have a better basis for those compliments. I kind of ... bask in his respect. And that is part of why I didn't -- even though I spent most of the past two days thinking about it -- end things with him tonight. Even though he does hurt, frustrate, and anger me with his confusion and back-and-forth celibacy and all his unjoyful, ridiculous overthinking.

Besides. It is no coincidence that the trait I most hate about myself is my indecisiveness and my tendency to teeter on the fence, seeing both sides of the situation and being unable to make that leap of faith. Seeing it in Scientist is incredibly painful on a number of levels, not the least because I find it frustrating beyond belief to be that way myself.

And in other, non-Scientist related news? Moved Joiner to New York (see above about UHaul unloading; also seem to have wrenched a muscle in my forearm, damned RSI), saw Air in concert (see above about Frenchmen in tight white pants), felt momentarily bad about not seeing my dear New York friends (really so sorry, dear friends, but I was there for literally 24 hours and was completely busy the entire time), heard from a second source that all traditional funding routes for anything like my clinical project are long closed (wonderful), and am suffering from severe sleep deficit. Hence, off I go, to hopefully slumber for 14 hours.