tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903878681576862682024-03-20T05:37:38.465-04:00Hopeful RomanticTo be a Hopeful Romantic is to have a realistic view of love and relationships, yet to remain hopeful about the chance for romance.
*See first entry for how my idea came about and a more precise definition.Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-5931384794592792132023-09-22T22:38:00.002-04:002023-11-06T20:59:57.925-05:00A Profile on Charlie<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>As I mentioned in my previous post, my gap year was really rough. I was very unsure what to do after my undergraduate. All of Amin's talk about getting your life started really got to me. This was part of his reason for thinking that he could never return to Canada: it would take too much time, and he wanted to get things moving for his life, like building a career and a family. I had all but convinced myself that I needed in the next couple of years, to have a career myself. In the end, I decided to accept the offer of an MA at University of Toronto only because I realised it was a no-lose scenario. If I still wanted to go into an MA later where I could walk out onto the job market after two years, I could (I had been rejected from that program in my round of applications in my gap year.) If I wanted to teach in the Cégep system after my MA, then I would be able to do so as well. I could also go on to the PhD level if I really liked where I was. All three paths were a good scenario, depending on what I wanted at the end of the MA year, and I would be applying from a stronger position with an extra degree under my belt no matter what I chose. It was a no-lose scenario.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>It is when I moved to Toronto that I met Charlie. In fact, he made quite an impression when I visited for recruitment in the spring of my gap year. I was so relieved at being shown around by a current student; it took away much of my anxiety of being in a new place and being quasi-interviewed about my academic interests and what my decision (yet unmade) would be. When I first arrived for the MA proper, I tried to avoid running into Charlie: he was so high-energy that sometimes it would tire me to be around him. I soon ended up speaking to him daily and seeing him frequently; we did live across the street from each other in residence. He was the most intellectual person I had ever met, possibly even still, and I liked that very much about him. I remember how Étienne told me that seemed an appropriate match for me when he met Charlie. Our research interests were similar, so we had a lot to talk about. I was still discovering what I should work on in graduate school, so Charlie was eager to mold me into a scholar in his area of study. I still owe him a lot in terms of learning the vocation of what it is to be a scholar, and for getting me started.</i></span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">It was clear very early on how he was interested in me. I was still crying weekly over Amin, so I was not in the frame of mind to date. I remember early in my degree going to a choral concert, a mashup of many different Broadway songs. It came up recently in my facebook memories in fact; I heard for the first time the lyrics in the Broadway version of "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera, and I posted them: "Recall those days, look back on all those times, Whatever else you choose to do, There will never be a day, When I won't think of you!" I really believed that at the time; I was still thinking of Amin daily and missing him dearly. Charlie, however, cheerful as ever, kept coming back and trying, like a puppy who is just always happy, carefree, and ready to see if you will spend time with them. I know I am glossing over a lot here, but I was pretty direct with him at one point about just wanting to be friends, something I quickly undid one month later when feelings appeared for me.</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>He had asked me to see a baroque music concert at which one of our mutual friends was performing. It was a really nice evening, and I determined to tell him that I had started feeling differently about our relationship. I felt like a first-class idiot, like I did with Amin. Charlie had told me, in order to make me feel safer, that dating within the department was not a good idea. So I told him that I understood that, but I had developed feelings for him, so now what? I thought it took no one by surprise more than myself, because I had gone from thinking about Amin all the time, to not thinking about him anymore, and thinking about Charlie. This upset me, as I had hoped to get over Amin in my own time, but sometimes you don't choose how these things happen. Charlie, however, was completely stunned. He hardly knew what to say. He started babbling on about: was I really sure? I could have my pick of anyone in Toronto; our department was big. Was I really sure I wanted to date him? His insecurities were talking, because he had never had his affections reciprocated before. I was his first girlfriend. I tried probably not aptly to explain that I was interested in him, not in anyone else. We started dating from that moment, that perfect quiet moment sitting together in a chapel at his college.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Charlie's lack of confidence, however, was only the tip of the iceberg. By the end of his first year of the PhD, he was burnt out, something not uncommon in our program. He was worked up about passing one of the exams in our department, and spent most of the summer preparing for that. It felt a bit like tug of war trying to get him to spend time with me too while he was studying. After he got through the exam, I told him that it was a deal breaker for me for him to just disappear off the face of the earth like that agian. I know I tried to get him into therapy at that point. He did not feel that he needed it, however. I should have taken my hint and left then, but I loved him deeply and wanted to keep trying.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>By now, I was in the PhD program too, just a year behind him. At the end of my second year, we moved in together. He promised me that it would not be like those times I had stayed with him in residence during the summer. He told me it would be better when there was room for two people, something I had no doubt of. He told me he wanted to be more settled and less out till all hours of the morning at the pub. He told me he wanted to be more responsible and keep his space. I wanted to believe him. There was only one way to find out if he was going to keep his word, I thought: move in with him and see how it is. We fought about what we wanted in an apartment, and for a moment, I thought we would never agree. We picked a great place in the end, and were both very happy with it. I ignored all of the signs.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>When we lived together, it was like pulling teeth to get him to contribute to the household. He wanted to argue with me about how often something needed to be cleaned. He did not believe me when I said that you could not spray chemical cleaners in a microwave. Everything was a struggle. I cooked and cleaned around him and could not get him to do things like pick up his books and socks which were everywhere. He also told me that I was creating so much stress for him that I was slowing down his progress on his dissertation. Finally, in a last ditch attempt, I got us into couples counseling. The first thing he was told was that he needed a therapist to deal with things that came up in the couples sessions. I had gotten him into therapy at last. But none of this lasted.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>I was in my fourth year of my PhD when I burned out. I had been burned out before, but this was one of the most severe since I had first been diagnosed with CFS. I had tried to maintain momentum after my qualifying exams, which came on the back of a year with a concussion and trying desperately to get through the exam which allowed me to take the qualifying exam, and therefore allowed me to stay in the program. So many people fall off the cliff after qualifying exams in my department, and I was so determined not to be one of them. I started running tutorials for the first time that fall, and tried to brush up on some Italian in preparation for a semester abraod in Rome. When I got to Rome, I was so sick, I could not get out of bed. I was nauseated all the time, and had all kinds of migraines. I was just sleeping through the days. I knew I was not ready for a four month intensive. I crawled back home to Montreal to my parents' to rehabilitate. I knew that if I were in Toronto with Charlie, I would not recover. He was also very angry at me for not doing the program in Rome. He was not supportive of my decision to return home. It was incredibly hurtful.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>I had my moment when I was at home recuperating when it died for me. Charlie started reflecting on how poorly he was treated and how I would have to "win him back." More than this, though, he told me that my behaviour towards him was abusive. That was the moment. This was the lose-lose scenario. If I argued with him and told him that I was not in fact abusive, I would feed into the paradigm of the abuser who denies it. If I accepted this assessment that I was abusive, then the relationship needed to end anyway because I was an abuser. There was no coming back from this. The irony is that, now I realised that I had to leave, I had to enact a safety plan. Charlie had said to me on two occasions before that he "knew himself" and that he would want to be mean to me if I ever left him. He said he would want to hurt me; I know this meant psychologically, not physically. He told me he would want to steal my books, and that he would want to sabotage my career. Because of this, my therapist recommended that I talk to the Campus Safety office, and I know that was the right move. They helped me to develop a safety plan to extricate from the apartment.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>I was about two months or so back in Toronto before my moving date. In that time, I tried to enjoy my last moments with Charlie, whom I still loved dearly. I just knew that this was not working, and that things were becoming more toxic by the day, and that I needed to leave. I picked the time that was easiest for me, and I told Charlie I was leaving the day that I moved out. He was devastated. I had help packing up my things, and we left that same day. My Dad drove me back home to Montreal and I was sure it was the absolutely wrong decision. I felt so sick leaving my life with Charlie behind I was sure I was going to throw up. My therapist told me that if it was a good idea to get back together with Charlie, it would still be a good idea in a couple of months. This really helped me. It was so hard for me to leave Charlie and give up on our relationship. But I needed to do it.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Over the summer and the next few months, all I wanted to do was fix things with Charlie. We met at summer conferences, and at first he refused to speak to me, as he had any other time I had contacted him. We were sharing a bathroom in adjoining rooms at the first conference, and he refused to speak to me the first few days. I just wanted to be able to be on good terms with him, and yes, ultimately to fix things. He was favourable, and then not, and then favourable again. Despite being yelled at, being locked out of the apartment we both still held a lease on, being berated, having our conversation recorded in case he needed to sue me, and him refusing for a long time to return some of the things I left at the apartment, I still wanted nothing more than for things to work out. I asked him before I left for Rome again to do the program I hadn't managed to the previous year if he wanted to talk about where we were at. He said "no." </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>It was 2020. Without knowing it, I had ended up in the epicentre of Covid in Europe: Italy. I was still messaging Charlie, and I think he got to hear how I was repatriated to Canada with help from UofT's service InternationalSOS. After that, it was radio silence, as it still is now. I see him sometimes at the library, or at department events, and he refuses to speak to me. He passes by me quickly, or at worst, hops across the room when I try to speak to him. I was incredibly hurt by this at first. I used to cry about it, and just to shake from the stress. Now I am at ease with it, because I do not want to fix things anymore. It just took a very long time to get to that point.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>This is the very condensed version, and again, it eclipses many things. It does not adequately convey the good things that Charlie did for me, and that our relationship was like before things started going downhill. I did not even get to talk here about Charlie's drinking habits, which were a serious source of contention for us. I just wanted some of the essentials to be here: how the dynamic developed from something good into something harmful, and how hard it was for me to let go. I was ashamed for a long time that I had ended up in a relationship that had turned abusive. The fact of the matter is, it can happen to anyone. It can develop, like it did for me, or it can be abusive from the start, just so insidious it takes a long time to see it. The best thing you can do for yourself is not to be too hard on yourself for finding yourself in this situation. The most important thing you can do is leave as soon as you are able. I was not able to leave very quickly, to my detriment, but I did leave, and that is what matters.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Again, my hope is that these words will help someone else who is going through something similar. This will not be the last post about Charlie, just the first: the essential outline to give readers context for further thoughts and feelings.</i></span></p>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-70649097441460760302023-09-21T22:23:00.005-04:002023-11-06T20:44:17.410-05:00A Profile on Amin<p><i><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">As a follow up on the “woes that lead to the present”, I
decided it would be smart to give a summary of things so that I can write more
on how I’m feeling now.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">In order to for
you to follow how I’m feeling now, you need a bit of context for when I start
referring back to people and relationships.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">The first person you know best, because I have quite a few posts on Amin
in this blog already.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"> </span></span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">Here, however,
is how our story ended.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">Over the
Christmas holidays, Amin had gone to Tehran, the capital of Iran, to make
inquiries about his compulsory military service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want to tell me anything about what
had transpired until we were back together in person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think it’s the first conversation we
had, but I made him sit down with me in that first week for sure to break the
suspense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The news was not good: he had
hoped to be exempt from service, but he found out that was not possible; the
service was not for two years, but for three; and it was not in another year or
so, but he needed to be back in Iran circa September of 2013, a mere eight
months away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked what this meant for
us, and he said he didn’t know.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">This was all
very abstract for me while he was trying to figure out what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I encouraged him to talk to a therapist to
sort out what it was he wanted, because he was feeling so torn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the meantime, I was doing what I could to
make him feel supported, and to try to move our relationship forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not trying to go leaps and bounds, but
I was trying to avoid stagnation, which is where he was happy to place us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a few wonderful moments, including a
couple of purely magical dates I would have loved to recount every detail of especially
when they were fresh in my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I
am in the time of summary, however, and not colours.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">The final
conclusion he came to was that it was too hard to have a long-distance
relationship with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the thing
he had asked me a few months prior, if I would be willing to do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been open at that point, and now my
heart was so open and so willing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
not, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was in the process of
letting go of everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was letting
go of me, he was letting go of the place he wanted to live (Canada) and the
career he wanted to have (working in the industry.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He felt that Allah was pointing him towards
living in Iran, and he was depressed because that is not what he wanted for
himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was depressed openly and
giving up on all of his dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could
not work as an engineer in industry without serving the Iranian government, so
he knew he would have to teach instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He knew it would be hard to restart the immigration process in Canada
after three years away; he no longer wanted to try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was too hard, he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not where Allah was leading him, he
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If only I’d gotten my permanent
residency,” he would say, or, “If only I’d met you earlier”, as though this
would change something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So he showed
signs of still fighting it, and wanting things to be different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one that really astonished me is how he
took his French courses obligatory for Quebec immigration up until he left for
Iran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do that if you did not believe
in coming back?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many hours of his life
wasted on that.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">He did not
want to give up his family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could I blame
him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would never be able to set foot
in Iran again if he skipped his military service to stay in Canada and stay
with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could never ask him to do
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He explained to me that they would
never be able to get a visa to get out and visit him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The government knows how to use pressure
tactics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could they not meet in Turkey? I
wondered naively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Turkish government
would likely turn him over as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were so many things like this that my mind just spun through after
he broke up with me, because he had done all of his deliberating in silence and
without me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">My mind was reeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to do anything not to lose him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least, almost anything: when T told me I
should marry him and that this could help his immigration status, I
balked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if I wasn’t ready to marry
him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had dated for four months. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could this be my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did I get stuck in a Nicholas Sparks
film?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I proposed to him a couple of
months after the breakup to go to Iran too for my gap year, and learn Farsi
properly, understand his culture better, see where he comes from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He refused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m sure he was right, but at the time everything felt completely
arbitrary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had freedom of movement
unlike him, so why should I not take this important step to be closer to him
before I began my graduate degree?<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">I lost my mind
in that gap year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was also on a
medication that was making me depressed as a side-effect, so it was a terrible
combination of factors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had little
hope for anything at all, including my own future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sure I had lost my soul mate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had soul-level pain; that is the only way I
know to describe it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the feeling
of the rug being pulled out from under me, and like my insides were completely gutted.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">I still have
to mostly pretend like this is not something that I experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a film I saw, something I read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I think about it more than just in a
cursory way, I still cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all this
time, I couldn’t even bring myself to write it in my blog to give some kind of
conclusion to this story I had been building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Writing this tonight is very painful.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">My only hope
is that this will help someone out there trapped in a Nicholas Sparks film
instead of their own life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My only hope
is that this will help me start turning the page for my own life. <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><i><span style="color: #93c47d;"> </span></i></o:p></span></p>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-38726055044129905562023-09-02T20:41:00.003-04:002023-09-21T22:25:38.776-04:00It's Been a Long Time<p><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">It’s been a long time since I have updated my blog
and I am not better for it. In the
creative exhaustion that grad school brings, and in my stubbornness to
write this story in chronological order, I have managed to put a stop to my
writing. The truth, however, is that I
need to be hopeful more than ever, so I want to try again.</span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">It
was so important for me to let unfold Amin’s story, to show how well-suited and
happy we were together, how much in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I find it so reductive after breakups to say one sentence or two about
how it did not work out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it has
been the most reductive for Amin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It erases
everything we had and everything we were to say that he rightly chose to go
back to Iran to do his military service and not lose his family forever.</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">I
am undergoing a similar grieving process at the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sure I had lost my soul mate in Amin
and that I would never love anyone again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Two breakups later, I at once know that this is not true, but also feel
it more than ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been about
five months since Jeremy broke up with me, and I have that same feeling of
nothing making sense in my life anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I fight the feeling every day that I lost the love of my life, and that
is it for me.</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">Here
is a timeline to help catch you up to the present:</span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2012
– I met Amin and we started dating<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2013
– In March, Amin broke up with me<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2014
– I began grad school in Toronto and met Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We started dating.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2019
– I broke up with Charlie<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2020
– I met Jeremy, and we started dating<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">2023
– At the beginning of April, Jeremy broke up with me<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">I
am trying anything I can to heal from losing Jeremy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know myself, and I know how I can stay attached for a very long
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not getting any younger; it
has been ten years since I updated this blog properly, since Amin left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to stay trapped like I did after
my breakups with Amin and Charlie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
any of this feels like you, hopeful reader, I hope you will find comfort in my
words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it will be messy or
ugly, but I hope we will find our way through.</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif;"><span style="color: #45818e;">~
Elise</span></span></i></p>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-17480636682635901512019-08-11T19:16:00.003-04:002020-02-07T04:08:47.274-05:00Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder, Or Narrower<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>So for just over a month, Amin was home in Iran. I remember I encouraged him to go, since his mother kept asking when he was coming, and the Christmas break presented such a good opportunity to go. It was a good chunk of time, which one needs when making a big trip. Thinking of going to Europe, most people need a good two weeks. Iran is a bit further, and a couple of time zones over, so Amin felt like three was a minimum to be able to enjoy time there. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>I remember that he was concerned about being away from me for such awhile right at the beginning of our relationship. I assured him that it would be fine, and that it was important for him to see his family; he hadn't been home in awhile, and they missed each other. I told him that it was not like I was going anywhere, and I'd be there when he got back. He got to see me every week, and the opportunities to see his family were rarer, so I figured he should capitalize on them. Still, it was harder to say goodbye than I imagined, and as I mentioned in my last post, I didn't do such a good job of it, which made me feel awkward.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Most of the awkwardness melted away from continuing to talk pretty much as usual. This was still the days when MSN was online (I miss that chatting platform so so much!). When he was in Montreal, we talked daily, about everything, all the time. I really wonder how we got any school work done, the pair of us! So when he was in Iran, I expected that we would communicate less, because he was busy with his family, and needed to make up for lost time. He also explained to me that the Internet situation is not great in Iran, as many websites are blocked. They still had Google, unlike China, but no social media, and many other websites that we use here in North America every day and simply take for granted. He told me that this would make it more difficult to communicate, and that sometimes there would be lapses of time where he could not connect with me. Connections were less reliable, particularly when using some kind of work-around to bypass the website bans, so he could access things like facebook. He was very motivated to do it, though, and so we stayed in touch with relative ease. I think there was only once or twice he cut out in the middle of a conversation.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>In fact, it really began to make me feel concerned at how he was coping with being away. I felt like he was not making the most of the time with his family, which felt to me like a waste. He spent a lot of time at the computer chatting with me, instead of experiencing things with his relatives. I might have suggested quietly once or twice to him that he should spend more time with his family. I did, however, put my foot down one day when I was out shopping with my mother and he had a bit of a meltdown. I had at least three messages from him when I got back, with the tenor of "Where are you?!" and they seemed quite panicked. I told him that it was the middle of the day, I was out, this was Normal, and that he needed to not freak out about that. I said furthermore that this kind of behaviour was excessive, and could even be construed as controlling or stalker-like. So maybe I pushed my point a bit far... It woke him up very fast, though, and he was mortified when he realized how his messages could have come off. Problem nipped in the bud immediately: this never happened again.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The remaining awkwardness resulted from vibes. I just scrolled back through my posts to see how much I had said about them, and I am pleased to see that the subject has had a good preliminary discussion, particularly in the post Two Chocoholics. Certainly since Amin and I first met, we both picked up on each other's feelings in one another's presence. Again, one could argue that we were detecting facial cues, or noticing body language, or something of that sort that would give an indication of how the other one was feeling. This cannot explain how we were able to sense one another's feelings when not physically together. This simply continued as usual while Amin was away, despite the distance being multiplied exponentially across continents. Perhaps this explains part of Amin's desire to talk to me a lot from Iran. I know at least one time he was visibly distracted in company: it was New Year's Eve, and he was sitting around the table with many relatives. I knew it was midnight there already, so I was fantasizing about that New Year's kiss I had never yet had, but seen so many times in movies. Amin felt that, and got such a look on his face, that people asked him what was wrong, and if he was okay. If anything, I think our psychic bond was growing stronger.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Absence can certainly make you grow fonder of another person. I think it is the yearning that can make you pull closer. I had asked Amin how to say "I miss you" in Farsi. He explained that you say "my heart is narrow for you" ("delam barat tang shode"). He said that was supposed to be the image of how it feels when you miss someone, how your heart gets narrower. I immediately recognized that tight feeling in your chest as your heart is hurting, as though no air can get to it, or you can't breathe anymore. I marveled that Farsi had an expression precisely for that feeling. I'm still amazed at what a beautiful, clever, and evocative language it is.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>P.S. Since I do not have a better place for this, I am going to finish this post with the beautiful Christmas e-card that Amin sent me. He delayed delivery, because he knew he would be traveling on December 25th. I was so touched! From what I remember of the attached message, he called me his "Christmas angel" 💖</i></span></span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRNXC8dRMII">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRNXC8dRMII</a><br />
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<br />Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-66767469283273883022019-06-10T19:33:00.000-04:002019-06-10T19:36:47.943-04:00Short December<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>This is a post I did not have a draft for, but nevertheless is essential to the timeline. It is for time spent with Amin in December, which was short, since he was headed home during the holidays. Yet, in just over a week, we had a couple of very memorable moments together.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">For my birthday, my Dad gave me two tickets to see Loreena McKennitt, so that I could take whoever I wanted. I forget at what point I told Amin that I wanted him to go with me; it might even have been before we started dating. Knowing that he loved her music like I did, I could not think of a better person to treat to my concert birthday gift. I had seen her during her Ancient Muse tour twice, and had been with various friends and relatives, so now it was his turn. He felt a bit uncomfortable at first, until I explained that it was my gift, so it was my choice who I would bring, and that he should not feel strange about it.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>So, on December 7th, the time had come for the Loreena concert. I remember that we had seats pretty near the stage and I was really stoked when I saw the lantern before the performance started. I called it: she was going to sing Dicken's Dublin. She said it was the first time she tried it in concert, and hoped that technology would cooperate to incorporate the recording which she plays alongside the music in this piece. Everything went off without a hitch, and it was magical. Amin and I were simply thrilled as she played so many of our favourites. It is still amazing for me to think that we grew up on opposite sides of the world and listened to the same music. There were many tender moments holding hands and squeezing them as she intoned lyrics from Penelope's Song ("I will keep your heart with mine, Till you come to me"), or Never Ending Road ("Here is my heart, I give it to you, Take me with you across this land, These are my dreams, So simple and few, Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands"). I know we floated out of Place des Arts, a place that now had a couple of great associations for us. I also remember killing time before catching my bus sitting with him in the deserted Complexe Desjardins and sharing many good kisses.</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_JbgkuHO3lZ_NdrML1JBwi01OagSEZPUqJ44CZOIbqspaBdD25DUIDn6O0Oeq1xrBJxagJN7xS8TdpmonFCkC2mnv2IVf8SP4U3_BBaoDHTf20l-C8q_Hpcspet4JZ94sIUZTJs0niA/s1600/IMG_1294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_JbgkuHO3lZ_NdrML1JBwi01OagSEZPUqJ44CZOIbqspaBdD25DUIDn6O0Oeq1xrBJxagJN7xS8TdpmonFCkC2mnv2IVf8SP4U3_BBaoDHTf20l-C8q_Hpcspet4JZ94sIUZTJs0niA/s320/IMG_1294.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweetheart putting ornaments on the tree<br />
like a pro<br />
(Seems I broke my rule of never posting a<br />
picture for you readers to ogle at... I'm <br />
calling this an exception since he's in profile<br />
and all you snoops can't figure out Amin's<br />
real identity, or at least so I hope!)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #38761d;">December 9th, we invited Amin over for tree trimming. He had expressed an interest in Christmas, and experiencing it with people who celebrate it, and experiencing it with me. Of course, he was not going to be in Montreal over Christmas, so we had him join us for putting up the tree and decorating it. He was really excited. My sister's boyfriend was with us too, and it was his first time decorating too, so it was perfect. The part that was a surprise for all of us, was how my Mom put on a small Christmas dinner for us that day. She didn't even tell me that she planned to do this!</span> <span style="color: #cc0000;">She cooked a chicken, and made many of the traditional fixings that go with turkey, I think some stuffing and cranberry, and mashed potatoes. When I realized what she was doing, and all the work she was going to at such a busy time of year, I was really touched. Amin was also really happy to have a taste of Christmas. After supper, we even opened Christmas crackers and wore the hats and read our jokes. It made parting for the<br /> holidays not feel half so bad.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>One thing that really hit home as I saw Amin for the last time the day before his flight is that I am not good at saying goodbye. I think we grabbed some tea for an hour or two, and we parted on a metro platform. I don't even remember what I said, but it was not particularly apt. I still don't think I'm very good with parting. I think it might have started back when I was around 10 or so, and my kindergarten sweetheart Luke was moving to BC. We actually refused to say goodbye, because we found it too sad. I think that might have been my idea, and he was good to agree with me. I have regretted that ever since, because I never got the chance to say goodbye and we have since lost touch. He was one of my very best friends from childhood, and I never said goodbye. So on the metro platform, I probably said something about seeing him in January or some such thing. And as soon as I got on the metro, I felt really strange. Like maybe in that moment, when I said whatever lame thing I said, it had not been real. But it was real: he was leaving for a good month. And I wasn't going to see him. And I was going to miss him. But I didn't say any of those things. I just felt awkward. It even feels awkward remembering this...</i></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-70021853314622538092019-05-31T21:33:00.000-04:002019-05-31T21:33:24.771-04:00Learning Farsi<em><span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: "georgia";">My next draft post was entitled "Learning Farsi". Clearly I thought I needed a thematic post in this spot. I don't see why not. Though I have only a couple of point form notes here, I think it is a good one to have here, because to me learning Farsi was very important. I recognized that learning Amin's language was part of learning about his culture and understanding him better and bonding with him more deeply. I also love languages, so it was something I was excited about. </span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><i>So one day early on, I sat down with him with a piece of paper with a list of phrases that I wanted to know how to say. I knew already how to wish him good night on chats, but I wanted to start incorporating more small things like that.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: "georgia";"><i>I brought him the page with English phrasing, leaving lots of space for him to fill in the Farsi. He helpfully wrote them for me with the Roman alphabet, because I could not read Persian script. I had "Hello" and "Goodbye" at the top, which I figured were the most basic. I should've guessed that "Hello" is "salam". "Goodbye", he explained, "Khoda hafez" means something like "God protect you". I really like that. Then I had how to say "How are you?" and "I'm fine". I had those introductory phrases too "What is your name?" and "Pleased to meet you", because those are often the first things you say in any beginner's language class. I also think I had the idea that Amin's Mom might like to say Hi on Skype at some point, so I wanted to be able to see "Khosh-halam ke mibinametoon", which is the formal way of saying it. I love that when you say that you are pleased to meet someone in Farsi, you are literally saying "I am happy (khosh halam) seeing you". Next was "Thank you", which I laughed to see is "Merci" borrowed from French (or "mamnoon" if you want to be less French-derived, or more formal).</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: "georgia";"><i>"Flip it over" I told him. Amin looked overwhelmed, perhaps because he thought it was a lot for me to take in at once, or perhaps because he had just explained a lot of phrases to me (especially between formal and informal forms). All of this melted away and was replaced by a smile when he saw that there was only one phrase on the other side: I love you. This was my little dramatic reveal. In a way, I had done all of this because I wanted to know how to say "I love you" in Farsi. I did silly and cute things like that when I was younger. "Doostat daram" he wrote. And then I learned why he said "I love you so much" in English. Like in French, when you say "doostat daram", you can say this to a variety of people like family or friends, just like the verb "aimer". How can you tell the difference between "like" and "love"? French does not really have a good answer to this question. In Farsi, though, they add something to help give context, oftentimes the intensifier "kheili" ("a lot", "so much"). When you say "kheili doostat daram", it is "I like you very much", read "I love you". From then on, I tried to say "kheili doostat daram" as often as "I love you".</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><i><br /></i></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-2001779514056349852019-05-26T21:22:00.002-04:002019-05-26T21:22:49.085-04:00November Postscript<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">The next entry in my drafts is entitled "November Postcript". It had a couple of notes for things that happened that did not have to do with Amin for the month of November. One said to talk about this Spanish</span><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">/Indian guy I met on the bus. I had included this in the draft, because we spoke for the entire bus ride. It has happened to me before to have conversations with people in Spanish when they find out I can speak a little, I think because they are so very happy to hear someone speaking their language in the middle of a linguistically-prejudiced province. This guy, however, was really wanting to get my number and go on a date. So I wanted to write this here because it took me by surprise. Yes, even after all my experience with Plenty of Fish I did, and do, find it strange when someone expresses an interest in me. It is so rare, that I am not expecting it. Usually I'm just invisible to men, so I was taken aback because I was Noticed. I remember marveling about it while talking to my sister's boyfriend at the time, and saying something like: what, do I glow now or something? Are men suddenly noticing me? Maybe so. He was an isolated incident, though, so it's hard to say. I like to think that being with Amin made me glow :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">The next note says "Brunch with Louis". Yes, indeed, I did go for brunch with him. I guess this is here because I was wondering a bit if he was interested in me. A friend had warned me, saying that all French guys from France were just big flirts. I knew he had a girlfriend, who we talked a lot about during this brunch, so as I suspected, I was very securely his friend. He talked about how they were trying to get her to emigrate to Quebec too, and what a better quality of life it would be. He was finishing up his Master's degree in History with a focus on teaching in the Cégep system. It was nice to catch up with him, and he chuckled when I told him about the blog and how he was in it. "Je ne savais pas que tu avais une vie sur les blogues!" Well, no, not really a whole secret blogging life, Louis... It kind of sounded like I was cute and he needed to humour me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">This is also the month, of course, when I deleted my Plenty of Fish account. Under this, the note also said "writing last messages". I guess there were just a couple of people I needed to tell about not looking anymore. There is nothing really significant that I remember about this, other than the fact that I was feeling very good about Amin and confident that things were going well. I permanently deleted my profile and settled into my new relationship.</span><br />
<br />Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-51956464185045780772019-05-26T21:04:00.002-04:002019-05-26T21:04:25.652-04:00November<span style="font-family: "georgia";">The first draft in my box is this one, a post for November 2012 (this is a serious life-time ago). It seems that I was almost done this entry, so as promised, it is appearing as is, until I run out of text at that the end, where 2019 me will jump back in:</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: "georgia";">As I stated in a previous post, I would like to move my blog along more swiftly by creating an entry for every month. This is the one for November, chronicling my dates with Amin over that month. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: "georgia";">On November 2nd, I had my first proper date with him as his girlfriend. We had seen each other at Halloween (see "First Days" post), but we had been doing school work in the library. November 2nd was a Friday, which meant that we had time and much less stress. I met him after his TA session and we went out for supper. I remember that it was a colder day, so I wanted to wear a sweater. I wanted to look good too, though, so I picked the <span style="color: #674ea7;">purple one with sparkles</span>. Amin always remarks on what I wear, saying that it is nice and that I am pretty, which was at first more or less easy for me to hear, but which is now so very appreciated. <span style="color: #783f04;">We went to Juliette et chocolat, somewhere we chocoholics had </span></span></em><em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: "georgia";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOkfkJfHhnPdbEVu2Ct1jOuA-2cpk-KFqEqAEprvC0qcpYfdHh4jj6cUOOn7z0UrzgOk_0eC2tAUga_JyKvVp8lcbL0W_BVC-mJaBRutA9hYUMAtLkcZBEGVfIbnZfUc-sCfIHTk6nZs/s1600/Juliette+et+chocolat+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDOkfkJfHhnPdbEVu2Ct1jOuA-2cpk-KFqEqAEprvC0qcpYfdHh4jj6cUOOn7z0UrzgOk_0eC2tAUga_JyKvVp8lcbL0W_BVC-mJaBRutA9hYUMAtLkcZBEGVfIbnZfUc-sCfIHTk6nZs/s1600/Juliette+et+chocolat+-+Copy.jpg" /></a></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="color: #783f04;">surprisingly not yet been. The place was quaint and very busy. We had a delicious hot chocolate sample, then asked for a bowl of our own (it was the first time I drank out of a bowl as opposed to a mug or cup and I found that the chocolate cooled much too quickly for my liking). My sister and her boyfriend asked to come by to see us, so after ordering, we popped ourselves outside Juliette et chocolat to say "Hi". My sister commutes each week from Ottawa where she goes to University, so she couldn't come inside with her giant bags full of clothes and books. Normally I would've said that such a meeting didn't make much logical sense, since it was short, she was laden down with her various things and so on. However, I was glad that she was taking and interest. She had already met Amin at my birthday, but she wanted to acknowledge him now as my boyfriend. She wanted to show that he was important in my life and to introduce him to an important person in her life. If you ask my sister's boyfriend, he will first and foremost say that he is Canadian, however, he is also Indian. He grew up here, but his parents came over from India, so he has both cultures in his heritage. I was so glad that Amin got a chance to meet him early on, because I knew it would reassure him. It would show him that we Carons date guys based on their personality, not their ethnic or cultural background and that our parents are fully supportive of and welcoming of our choice. I had neglected to mention my sister's boyfriend's background; I wanted Amin to see for himself. So this one brief moment had much significance. Amin and I found ourselves soon back at our table and in sweet chocolate bliss. I ordered the crêpe with strawberries, bananas and semi-sweet chocolate. He went for the one with all the fruits. I finished mine and it was just the right portion for me, but alas, Amin could not finish his! He gazed longingly at his plate, full to bursting and I told him that that's why I made sure there were only two fruits in my dish, otherwise I knew I would not be able to get through it. The only slightly awkward moment came when it was time to settle the bill. I asked him how we were going to do that. He asked me to repeat, so I thought he hadn't heard, but we were having a comprehension problem. Once he got the gist, though, he insisted on paying for supper. I was about to learn in the coming months that my negotiating power in this area was almost nil. I just breathed and tried to go with it, because I knew that it was important to him because of his culture's values and that thus far I had not been allowing him to do what was comfortable. Like with the other aspects of dating that I was getting used to, I was quiet on the outside and trying to quell the voices or arguments inside. </span><span style="color: #660000;"> </span><span style="color: #990000;">After supper, we had planned on a movie. Amin assured me that his office would be empty on a Friday night and that we would be alone, or close to it, to watch this film. I was nervous because I knew that some of his officemates were Iranian. During our discussions about public displays of affection, he asked that we be careful in front of his colleagues because he is a private person, but also particularly because Iranians don't date. He wanted to be secretive not because he did not want to acknowledge me as his girlfriend, but because he wanted time to tell people and certain people would require more time than others. For example, on October 25th, he came home and told his best friend that we were going out. His cousin, however, was another matter. I figured he would probably be one of the last people to find out. Amin and I walked into his office and there were about five people already in. My nerves went up a notch as I wondered how these strangers were labelling me: Amin's friend, Amin's girlfriend? We came in silently, trying not to disrupt their work and sat at Amin's desk. I pulled the DVD from my purse and he set up two pairs of headphones so we could hear the movie. I didn't imagine that there would be a way to concentrate on the film with so many other bodies in the room, but it actually worked fairly well. I had picked a good film for that: Phantom of the Opera. Two things I didn't tell Amin and still have not confessed are that I watched this very movie with Frédéric and that I really think we should've taken his laptop as I suggested and found a quiet spot outside of his office to watch it (the whole rest of the floor was deserted). We managed to pull off this odd viewing because Phantom of the Opera is one of those truly magical films. It completely absorbs you into its world, with the genius of Andrew Lloyd Webber's music, the stunning cinematography, the exquisite costumes, etc. As soon as Christine began to sing "Think of Me", one of my </span></span></em><em><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia";"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiop_srwEAK2pbpaGekCWhMinIl5pFId2Urv1WCWp_3bhyphenhyphenLX7WajvEmFw0weLk2Ze5Sfql8mFOKJcSRVHPVBkeT9EJ0PCaMW5pgXZZBevMmF7xcBTx7qNknLxaxic584WmA0XOQsWUWIi0/s1600/Think+of+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiop_srwEAK2pbpaGekCWhMinIl5pFId2Urv1WCWp_3bhyphenhyphenLX7WajvEmFw0weLk2Ze5Sfql8mFOKJcSRVHPVBkeT9EJ0PCaMW5pgXZZBevMmF7xcBTx7qNknLxaxic584WmA0XOQsWUWIi0/s1600/Think+of+me.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></em><br />
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favourite pieces in the movie, I felt Amin's hand grab mine, firmly and excitingly clasping it. I just stared at the screen, trying not to alter my facial expressions. This was exactly the sort of thing Amin made me promise we would Not do in his office. I didn't pull my hand away, but I didn't keep his there. He did let go after a couple of minutes, perhaps recollecting himself. I couldn't help wondering if anyone had noticed and continued being on my very best behaviour for the duration. Afterwards, I suggested that I needed some air. That was polite code for: let's go have some alone time! We found a bench to sit on and I sang a few bars of "Think of Me" for him, to his delight. We talked a bit about the movie, but we did more of that in the weeks following this date. It was the first time we were not strictly "in public" since we had talked about disliking public displays of affection; his office had still been too public. I felt it was also an opportunity to make good on my will to work on kissing. Amin was surprised because he had expected me to need more space. I told him, as I expressed in my entry "My True Love's Kiss" that I felt I really needed to practice rather than abstain to get past this hurdle. He was so attentive, asking me again and again if I was sure and if I was okay. I was okay. Not being terrified was a good start. We finished the evening with him accompanying me part of the way home and my playing some of Loreena McKennitt's "Tango to Evora" on my penny whistle for him (more on the subject of Loreena later, I promise!). He was so impressed that I remembered his favourite piece that he was not sure whether he should be posting "Think of Me" on his facebook profile or "Tango to Evora". I think he ended up with some references to both. We were both well pleased with how this date went.</span></em><em><span style="font-family: "georgia";"></span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><em>November 10th was our next date. <span style="color: #bf9000;">Amin came to pick me up at work. When I finished up for the day, I caught him out of the corner of my eye, but I had a parent to speak to. I greeted my tutee's father and gave him the requested feedback about his son's progress in Math. Afterwards, I went up to Amin and wasn't sure how to greet him. I gave him a hug and asked if he'd like to see my classroom. We went quietly down the hallway for a few paces, until we were out of earshot of my coworkers and the students, he said under his breath, "I hate you!" Startled, I asked him why. He said he'd overheard me speaking Spanish to the father and wanted to know if there were languages I couldn't speak! I'm laughing now as I write this, but I took it very seriously at the time. I explained that my communications in Spanish are quite rudimentary and that he should've heard me hesitating and searching for words. The upshot of it was that Amin was teasing and was very proud of my linguistic abilities. Once we got to my room, I said something quiet about "this is where I teach" (or tutor, rather). He was in a hurry to get going and I was trying to get him onto my wavelength, something that had played out romantically and seamlessly in my mind, but not exactly in reality. I don't know how I managed to get him to take a couple of more steps inside, but as soon as he was far enough from the door (which has a small window), I kissed him. He told me later that he found that clever and that it was a very pleasant surprise. It was one of the first times I initiated and it was definitely our first kiss while standing; he was delighted. He was so distracted, it took him awhile to realize that he was holding his coat in his hands which he finally let drop onto a desk. We hadn't planned on staying at my work originally; it kind of developed that way. We had some loose plans for the date, but we had been having difficulty deciding on exactly what we wanted to do all week. So we had some ideas and the rest was kind of going with the flow. The first thing we did was chat a bit. I was not feeling very well, as is often the case after a few hours of tutoring. I remember feeling weak and asking if he didn't mind if we stayed at work a bit so I could rest, so I could sit and eat. Amin had been about to ask me if I'd had lunch and when he heard I hadn't, he was adamant that I should do so at once. So I pulled out my sandwich and snacks to reenergize. When it came to it, I didn't want to get moving just yet. Understanding and agreeable as ever, he was totally fine with just staying quiet on what was supposed to be a "big date". One thing we had talked about was going to see a movie, but we had not found anything particularly appealing out in theaters. I'd brought a couple of DVDs of my own in case perhaps watching one became a possibility. I asked Amin what he thought and he said it was a great idea. That way we didn't have to go anywhere while I was recuperating. I let him choose and he went with Kate and Leopold. Watching the movie on the plastic chairs was not super comfortable, but the television in my classroom worked out really well. We were interrupted briefly by the security guard who was locking up the rooms. I never stayed that late and was nervous that she might want to kick us out. She said that as long as we were finished up by 5:00, that was fine. I assured her we would be. The movie ended somewhere around 4:30. Amin enjoyed it as I expected he would. We have the same taste in movies and never have anyone that is willing to watch them with us. We often get the comment: "You're watching That again?!" from others. It is so nice for both of us to finally have someone to watch movies with.</span></em></span><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><em><span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7HAhFVQmG1Z-6tGcv4dMp7X_9FTxoZRVLYTO6iawuSQwRZ2a_GMGpZLZaNQ6oKnRfS6ZCylTHQJ6fuyMFAcHGXJoAWfZbQzEIHJ1ebb7gJZXLNA-VmxFcV9AZC7RjPxtmYiYWaxYYW0/s1600/Atrium+Le+1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7HAhFVQmG1Z-6tGcv4dMp7X_9FTxoZRVLYTO6iawuSQwRZ2a_GMGpZLZaNQ6oKnRfS6ZCylTHQJ6fuyMFAcHGXJoAWfZbQzEIHJ1ebb7gJZXLNA-VmxFcV9AZC7RjPxtmYiYWaxYYW0/s1600/Atrium+Le+1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></em></span><span style="font-family: "georgia";">
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><em>I was feeling much better at that point, so I proposed we go skating as planned. Again, Amin needed to be reassured that I was truly up for it. Once that was settled, we got into the car he had rented especially for our date and headed to L'Atrium le 1000. He was glad to save me energy by driving, not to mention that having a car made it feel much more like an occasion. Most of all, he was simply thrilled to be driving with me sitting next to him in the passenger seat. He said something like, "You do not know how it is to be me driving with such a lovely and precious person beside me in the car." No, clearly in his incoherent burst of emotion, I could not really know how it felt, other than to say that it made him so very happy. My sister had talked about "going skating at Bonaventure" as a strictly couples thing. Not to say that friends don't go skating there, but that oftentimes you find couples on the ice and that it could often be considered a typical dating activity. Far be it from me to want to do something popular or stereotypically date-ish in Montreal; Amin and I had strictly practical reasons. I had skates, but he did not. It is not everywhere that you can go skating and also rent skates, so Bonaventure it was. I had not set foot on a rink in awhile, so I was curious to see how it would go. Amin had never skated before; it was his first time. I was even more curious to see how he would do. I promised him that I would hold his hand and that he would not fall as long as I was holding his hand. To my amazement, that is exactly what happened. We stepped out onto the ice and I helped him through the awkward first turns when you have such a hard time moving more than a tiny bit at a time. Little by little, he started to take some bigger strides. His balance was good generally speaking; for the rest, I steadied him. We were we in danger of falling only a handful of times, when Amin was thrown far off kilter, but each time I managed to pull him back to center. One of those times, I'm the one that lost my balance and he held me and prevented me from falling. I could hardly believe that it was his first time on the ice; normally that would've surely have caused both of us to fall. Later, he observed to me that when I held his hand that I was transferring a lot of energy to him through it. I had no idea I was doing that. He said it helped sustain him and keep him upright. Like any good instructor, I started telling him to let go of my hand and skate on his own. At that point, that is really the only way you can progress. Amin didn't like that very much; he would go a few feet and then be looking for me. I was never far behind or ahead, always watching out for him. As time wore on, I did manage to get him to go around once on his own. We skated for quite awhile, taking only a few rests. I was impressed at my stamina; I had not thought I would last that long. Amin was too, but then he said that it was because I was skating more slowly with him. He encouraged me to strike out on my own a couple of times while he rested. One time in particular, I skated faster than usual because I recognized The Box's song "Closer Together", one that I like. Amin said he enjoyed watching me "skate for real" and that the way I found the rhythm in the music was beautiful; he said it was like dancing. He was just so full of compliments as he reflected on our date. I was telling him the next day that I could proudly say to everyone that my first-time skater did not fall once. I could still hardly believe it myself. His reply was: "Hmmm... it seems I found my balance in everything not only my life; I needed you to find balance in everything sweetheart". See what a sweetheart He is? The experience had a magical quality for both of us. By the time we stopped skating, most of the places in the foodcourt had closed. The pizza place was still open, though, so we grabbed a slice. I know that Amin had hoped for something more romantic on a "big date", but we once again went with the flow. It was nearby, we were tired and I definitely needed to eat and would not have been able to wait for dinner service. I also remember having Orange Crush, something I hadn't had since elementary school! Right then, that was the coolest thing. Afterwards, Amin drove me back home. He stopped the rental a little beside my place. Concealed by a tree, he leaned over and kissed me before getting out of the car. I had the impression that was the best kiss of the day; I had the feeling of never wanting it to end. He then helped me get my work things and my skates out of the trunk and bid me goodnight.</em><br />
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<em><span style="color: black;">On November 16th, Amin was invited over for supper for the first time. </span><span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">I was of two minds about this visit. I was of course happy to have him over, but I was nervous about how meeting my family would go. Well, to be more accurate, I was nervous about him meeting my Dad. Generally speaking, Dad says awkward or stupid things, even when there is company. He has been particularly inhospitable to boyfriends in the past (for example, talking about "taking out his shotgun" just to see if he could freak the hell out of my sister's teenage boyfriends). Amin told me that he was not concerned about it and asked me not to worry, but the truth is that I was more worried about my not being able to handle it than him not being able to. He was, however, eager to be prepared for all other aspects of the visit. He started asking about what my place is like, what our habits are and etc. so that he could get a good idea of what he was walking into. So I don't think he was without a little anxiety walking in. I answered all of his questions in the most detail I could to help him feel more confident. It turns out that all of the stress was for nothing. Everyone behaved well, including my Dad. We managed to make a good first impression on Ali and I think people also liked him (though sometimes it is difficult to get a sense of a mostly quiet boyfriend on a first visit!). We managed to not make a serious dietary faux-pas too (courtesy of my Mom). My parents made chicken cacciatore, something we hadn't had in awhile. As I discovered later, technically speaking no Muslim should eat meat that is not halal, but Amin and some of his relatives had decided upon coming to Canada that though they would opt for halal if given the choice, they would not pass up on certain experiences, such as having a meal home-cooked by friends. We did, however, avoid the bigger problem: Mom made sure we skipped the white wine in the sauce. Amin explained to me that even when alcohol burns off during cooking, it is not okay for Muslims. Thank God my Mom pays attention to details and is smart about such things! He was a bit disconcerted when he found out that I had briefed my family a bit on how to behave, like telling Dad not to offer him alcohol (he has a tendency to push booze on people; you have to refuse at least three times for him to stop asking and if ever he pours for you, he stops about 10-15 seconds AFTER you say "when"!). Despite my Dad's spur-of-the-moment toast which was awkward but livable (something about how he was happy that Amin makes me happy; his random bursts of emotion often do not feel genuine) and his interrogation was limited to Amin's thesis topic. Having my sister's boyfriend being present as well was helpful; it showed Amin what it was like to be more comfortable and integrated into the family dynamic. He really reacted positively too to my Dad's random "welcome to the family" bit in the toast (what, like we were getting married or something?!). Talking with him later, he expressed to me that it was so nice to be at a family gathering, something he had not experienced in 2 years; I realized in that moment how lonely it can be living in a different country without your family and thus how good it felt to be present and also accepted into our albeit off-beat group. Besides that, the main general feedback I got from Amin about the evening was that supper was good, dessert (fruit crumble) was divine and</span></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><em><span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KPUPApuS_gBhbpfOIdBHoazuupPiluqEqpI_TkMnk343UVI-ze8QQIs3f4yjiGL2cC3BdV2ssCHX5LbFS0-WJr4jAmQyRmuUA_8aTM_xuIO4PLionTBmcyBCQvBXgRpfkYo5TJWeqHY/s1600/IMG_1241+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KPUPApuS_gBhbpfOIdBHoazuupPiluqEqpI_TkMnk343UVI-ze8QQIs3f4yjiGL2cC3BdV2ssCHX5LbFS0-WJr4jAmQyRmuUA_8aTM_xuIO4PLionTBmcyBCQvBXgRpfkYo5TJWeqHY/s1600/IMG_1241+-+Copy.JPG" width="291" /></a></span></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><em><span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"> that my family was very nice, particularly my </span></span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><em><span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Mom. </span> Then there was the evening from our perspective. When Dad went to pick up the boyfriends, Amin handed me a beautiful bouquet of roses and showed me the box of Lindt chocolates he had picked up for Mom. I was still not yet fully settled into the mind-frame of being the girlfriend, so I thought the flowers were also for Mom. The flowers were always for Mom; Mom loved flowers and people brought her flowers. No one ever brought me flowers. It took my brain a few minutes to actually compute this. My flowers. They were MY flowers! Not only that: they were Roses! I was speechless. I had never felt the need for anyone to get me roses, but now that I had some, I felt it was such a nice gesture. I got to enjoy them for many days, because they lasted well. What a wonderful way to start the evening! When we arrived, Mom greeted us, then left us to our own devices, as planned. I had asked for us to have the use of the family room. That was tough to negotiate, since Dad would normally be watching television at that hour. We were granted that time before supper to have the space to ourselves. I was really looking forward to sharing more of my music with him, so we had decided to take some time at the piano. I was nervous at first, as I typically am when I have an audience. That usually passes fairly quickly, though. I haven't taken lessons in a long time, but I enjoy playing and really just do it for fun. I had been unexpectedly inspired to pull out the first piece I had taught myself to play at the age of nine: the easy version of My Heart Will Go On. I had misplaced the sheet music for the longest time, but it had resurfaced just a few days prior. Nervous, I didn't sing the first verse, but began at, "Love was when I loved you, One true time I hold to...". I was looking at my fingers and not at his reaction, but I could feel he had gotten quiet beside me, the sort of hush you get when you want to hear everything perfectly or when you are completely mesmerized by what is before you. His praise of my playing was warm throughout. My goal had been to play the songs from Phantom of the Opera for Amin and get him to sing along with me. He had been nervous at this prospect when I first voiced it shortly after seeing the movie, but it grew on him. He had looked up lyrics and listened to the music in anticipation. It took him a little while to chime in, though. We started with "Think of Me", which was meant to be helpful in that Raoul doesn't have a lot to sing in that piece and would help Amin build up some confidence. No such thing. I sang both Christine and Raoul in that one. Then came "Angel of Music" and I was still singing everyone's part. I think he came in with me the first time at "Phantom of the Opera". What I remember is that "All I Ask of You" was sublime. We did that one twice. I was so thrilled to have someone to sing with me and Amin enjoyed it a lot too. We agreed that we should do this often as it was so much fun. </span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><em><span style="color: #ea9999;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: black;">On November 24th, Amin was invited to a birthday celebration for one of his office mates. </span><span style="color: purple;">It was at her place and significant others were also invited. He really wanted me to go with him; in fact, he thought of it as an occasion for us and was not keen on going without me. I was very flattered at being asked because it meant that he was going to officially introduce me to many of his office-mates. I was going to be recognized as the girlfriend and slowly begin integrating into his world.</span> </em><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman";">
</span></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">*** And this is where the entry in my drafts trails off. What I remember from his office mate's party is just a few details here or there. I know we talked a bit with the office gossip, who Amin said was already pretty sure we were dating and dying to talk about it all over the lab. We talked probably most with T, Amin's best friend and gym buddy. By the time I talked to the birthday girl herself, it was close to the time Amin and I were leaving, and she had had a bit to drink by then, so she wanted me to know that it was MY job to teach him French. Yes, yes, I would, I assured her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">It was my intention when I was first writing this entry to consult my calendar and my messages from Amin to fill in details I didn't remember. At this point, I realize that it is holding me back and delaying my progress in this blog to be going into that kind of depth. Looking at my calendar for November of 2012, there are no other dates written in, so I feel safe enough to conclude here for this entry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><br /></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-70945341885096328352019-05-23T18:14:00.001-04:002019-05-23T18:14:36.922-04:00I'm Back Part II: What to Expect<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Since I'm coming back to this project after a long hiatus, I realized that some things will have to change about my format. One of the things that held me back, for example, was being stuck in the chronological sequence of events. I fell behind in going through details in order, which simply prompted me to fall more behind. I do not want to take away this organization altogether, since my brain really works well sequentially. Instead, what I propose is to try to accomplish what I was trying to with posts left in my drafts box on Blogger, then see where new posts need to take me.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>In going through old events, of course, it makes little sense for me to use my old system of "Hopeful and Hopeless counts". In fact, I'm not sure they will serve me well for how I'm feeling now either, so this is a structure that is no longer useful. In going through half-written drafts of old posts, I am going to keep things as they are, and probably not be able to complete them in the same amount of detail. I'll indicate faithfully when I have a chunk of text that I had written those many years ago, then show a break where I'm jumping back in now, so that you can know the difference.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I figure that themes will be the driving force in the new chapter of my blog, since six years is a lot of life to catch up on (especially in order). Probably what will make me most Hopeful is to talk about the things that are pertinent to me now. It will kind of be like when you phone up or text your friend and talk to them about something you are thinking about, or a particular way you are feeling. I fall down a lot of these rabbit holes, talking about abstract things that are not happening now, but that I am thinking about because of something that did happen. Hopefully this will become clearer as we navigate this new format together.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Posts will be made on a more regular basis. Hopefully I can write every week. Definitely I will no longer let months go by without at least one post.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Till soon!</i></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-1299083942638132192019-05-22T20:51:00.004-04:002019-05-22T21:04:14.262-04:00Hopeful Romantic is Back<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hi everyone,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I really appreciate the ongoing interest in my blog, especially since I haven't written in such a long time. I've felt guilty even at the thought of opening Blogger because I have not kept this up to date. It is heartwarming, though, to see that people still read what I have here and have written me encouraging comments.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have stayed away too long, which is sad for you, but also for me. I love to write; it is one of the things that gives me true joy and makes me feel alive. It is hard to keep up while being a graduate student, but I am committed to writing now, because I am convinced I need it.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Spoilers? Nope! I am not one to believe in those. So for everyone out there wondering, you are going to have to read for yourself about Amin. I have always said that whether or not you are dating or have found the person of your dreams, this does not remove the need to be hopeful. I did not intend for my story to end on a high note; that was simply coincidence. Last time, I was pushing to finish my undergraduate degree, and now I'm doing my PhD, so again, this is going to be a challenge, but I really want to find a way to make it work. I certainly need a dose of Hope, and perhaps you do too.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">See you soon, dear readers :)</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Elise </span></i>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-11714793124147233272013-06-08T23:27:00.003-04:002013-06-09T12:26:46.195-04:00My True Love's Kiss<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hopeful 2 Hopeless 8</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuN3pvz5cbBwsjayJ8tVhXBSmhiuZYuvMU8n8LB_YLtBq0IEDPOWfSoKfUJFybG7hlUGWjFMsocOkjlDCRIkv4SGjRbskEP-CoWj28V8sGk7sY4J7T-cf0LgUTpPKpg4rsQCBWvQMDwII/s1600/PDVD_495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuN3pvz5cbBwsjayJ8tVhXBSmhiuZYuvMU8n8LB_YLtBq0IEDPOWfSoKfUJFybG7hlUGWjFMsocOkjlDCRIkv4SGjRbskEP-CoWj28V8sGk7sY4J7T-cf0LgUTpPKpg4rsQCBWvQMDwII/s320/PDVD_495.JPG" width="320" /></a><em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">"I've been dreaming of a True Love's Kiss", sings Giselle right at the beginning of the movie Enchanted. This is how I felt for the longest time. Unlike Giselle, I did not live in a little cottage in woods waiting for "a prince I'm hoping comes with this". I did, however, have a wonderful dream in my head of the magic which is a great kiss. I had not yet experienced one and was yearning for this True Love's Kiss.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">What I had difficulty understanding was how this dream didn't transform into reality. In my mind, I was comfortable with kissing. I wanted to kiss Amin as early as the Gardens date. In my imagination, it felt natural and blissful. I didn't understand why there was such a disconnect with reality. When I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and Amin's lips touched mine, why then did the experience become terrifying? I couldn't account for the intense fear.</span></em><br />
<em><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">As I mentioned in my previous entry, it was not the first time I had had this problem. I even became mysteriously feverish the day that I kissed Frédéric for the first time. I thought maybe the trouble was going from essentially nothing (no hand holding or hugging, etc.) straight to kissing. So for a couple of weeks, I asked if we could transition like that. He agreed. I was so over the moon, cooing about how "understanding" and "respectful" he was. Again, simply the idea of that and of the way I was back then makes me queasy. After the two weeks were up, we tried again. Frédéric was happy. I, however, was not really any more advanced. I didn't have extreme terror anymore. I had some anxiety, perhaps. The rest was completely indifferent. I couldn't understand how I could have romantic feelings for him, yet feel absolutely nothing when we kissed. I felt very warm and fuzzy holding his hand or hugging or cuddling. There was literally nothing, though, when we kissed. Not even once.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Yup, Edward... we're not feeling it...</span></td></tr>
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</span></em><em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I wanted to write this entry to elaborate, to go beyond the general concepts I laid out in my last post. It is all well and good to say that True Love's Kiss isn't necessarily the first kiss or that it requires some time or effort but that you will get there. How? How do you get there? I wish I'd had a roadmap or someone to explain this to me. Like I said, I'd have spent a lot less time feeling awkward or abnormal.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I had hoped that choosing a better person than Frédéric (which was not hard to do, as it turns out!) would do the trick. I chose Amin, but my heart sank when this did not instantly solve my problem with kissing. He knew something was up and he prompted me a lot to tell him what I was thinking and how I was feeling. Like I wrote in my entry "First Days", he got me to admit that public displays of affection are not really my thing. It took me a little longer than that to talk about the kissing issue. Not only did I feel abnormal and embarrassed, but I most emphatically did not want him to take it as a reflection on him. I did not want him to think that I was not into him or that he wasn't a good kisser or something like that. Again, October 25th was such a spectacular night for him that I didn't want anything to kill the magic for him.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">Much quicker than I would've liked, Amin had me telling him everything. He had me admitting to the whole of my history with Frédéric in regards to kissing. I remember that I felt terrible confessing this. Thank God we were having this conversation online! This is the point, however, where I discovered true understanding and respect. Though I was not immediately reassured, Amin said everything to reassure me. He started off with normalizing my feelings, being careful not to invalidate them. He told me that I was not so strange and that in fact not everyone likes to French kiss. I could hardly believe him. He also came out with a list of reasons why I could possibly be feeling anxious about kissing. He followed it up with a solemn promise that we didn't have to kiss at all. This surprised me most of all, I think. He told me that though he liked kissing, if it really made me feel so uncomfortable and so upset, we would simply not kiss. That phrase came up again about my comfort level being the most important thing.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">While that was all very nice, it was not what I wanted. I believe that relationships are about compromise and balance. I was not going to let him give up kissing for me. Besides, it's not that I didn't want to kiss. In fact, I think kissing is an important part of a romantic relationship. To console myself when I was with Frédéric, I had said that "kissing is just one facet of the relationship and certainly not the most important one". I had underestimated its importance and I was not about to make the same mistake. I told Amin that I wanted to work on it. He agreed as long as it wasn't purely for his enjoyment, as he put it. He consented on the condition that I would eventually feel good about kissing and enjoy it too. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I realized that my strategy had to be different from the last time. I had asked Frédéric to take a break from kissing for the first two weeks. This did not help in the slightest. I understood that avoiding kissing was not effective, nor was what I did after that, which was to simply expect that it would "sort itself out". It wasn't going to happen by magic. I knew that it would require effort.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I just didn't know at all how to go about it. There was so much, actually, that I simply didn't know. Amin had asked me right away what was making me so nervous about kissing (and had come up with some possible answers). I had no idea. Again, in my head, I was perfectly at ease with kissing. In reality I was not. It was puzzling for me. Amin was very eager to do anything he could to help, but he could hardly do anything when I was so unclear in my own mind. How could I tell him what I did not know myself?</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">Yet, he's the one that came up with the solution. Unknowingly, from the very first, he did all of the right things. Along with all the other things I quoted him on above, he told me that I was good at kissing. I was floored. The sincerity with which he said it made me realize that he was not just trying to reassure me; he really really meant it. I could not integrate this fully at the time, but Amin kept on telling me. Just that praise, that positive reinforcement, made a huge difference. In fact, the whole solution really was communication. I know I mentioned in an earlier entry that he liked to go over details of time we spent together, revisit the memory and give his feedback. Well, that is what we did about kissing. We talked about it. That may seem strange to many of you as you read this, but it was so effective. Amin's natural instinct was a good one.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I think it actually started from a desire to have me believe that I was good at kissing. I remember he said on more than one occasion about our first kisses: "I felt so much passion from you". Well, that was news to me. I had no awareness whatsoever. I could feel nothing. I couldn't tell how he was feeling or even how I was feeling as we kissed. So at first, he told me. He had to tell me, because I couldn't tell for myself. I couldn't understand how I could be so blocked off from feeling anything. Clearly there was some kind of obstacle there. Amin wanted so much for me to know how good I was and how great I made him feel that that is how these conversations got started. He was very happy to literally deconstruct each kiss, tell me what I did, what he did, how he felt and how he felt I felt (even though I couldn't feel it myself). At first, it was so foreign to me. Little by little, though, things began to change.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">On November 6th, after practicing kissing a lot one afternoon in a quiet spot at university, I had a breakthrough. As usual, when I was back home, Amin and I were chatting online. He talked about the kisses, which were certainly good that day. I listened like usual, not adding too much. I slipped in, right before saying good night, that for the first time, I had felt something. I was so ecstatic. It was such a small thing, but it was so huge for me. After we parted ways to go back home, I could feel some tingles on my lips. I had kissing after-effects. "Now you know how I feel all the time!" Amin said excitedly. All that was left was for me to feel something while we kissed. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">Slowly, over the course of the first month, that is exactly what we achieved. I can't pinpoint exactly which kiss was "the one". I just know that gradually, I began to feel more and more. I felt tingles after kissing, then I began to feel as we kissed. I even started to pick up on his feelings. The first sign I got was when I discovered that he liked it when I touched his upper lip. I remember one day in November, he actually exclaimed, "OH my God!" I remarked on that and he told me that it was not the first time; he had already said it in Farsi on a number of occasions which had obviously escaped my notice. I was finally starting to be in tune with him. I can't say exactly when all of this happened or exactly how. I just know that Amin made me feel comfortable and reassured. I know that the communication, true open communication helped so very much. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;">I definitely realized a few things on a conscious level. I remember him telling me once that I was thinking too much while kissing him. People tell me all the time that my brain never shuts off and I own that to a certain degree. Amin went on to say, though, that I was thinking too much about pleasing him while kissing him, so of course under those circumstances, I couldn't enjoy the kiss for myself. "I never told you that," I said. "How did you know?" I've since learned that I can't hide anything from Amin, even when I want to. What he helped me realize is that seeking to please him was a barrier to being in touch with my feelings and with his. This was a definite factor in my trouble with kissing. Him saying this also made me realize that this was a pattern I was repeating. I came to understand that I'd had the same dynamic with Frédéric, that kissing him equated to trying to please him. Kissing in public made me uncomfortable, but he expected me to do so anyways (ironically, I later learned that I was not sufficiently affectionate in public to suit him despite my efforts). In fact, any time we kissed, it was because he wanted to. He expected it and I obliged. The first time I got to thinking about it that way was when Amin commented on my use of tongue while kissing. I told him that Frédéric always expected it. He didn't really want my lips so much as my tongue. If I had described this kissing dynamic with Frédéric to myself before I met Amin, there is no way I would've believed it. I would've objected strongly to simply catering to my boyfriend's wishes and expectations. That is not the kind of person I am and such a description is frankly an insult to my independent spirit. Yet, it is all true. It took me awhile to unravel, but I figured out that was exactly the way it was. It had been so subtle, because Frédéric was not openly demanding or controlling, nor was it his intention to be anything remotely like that. The result, however, was that he was calling the shots when it came to kissing. No wonder the kissing had been one-sided! Looking back, it was even built directly into the phrasing I used right from the start: "his kiss". This epiphany helped me to take some of my power back and have a better balance with Amin. I began to initiate kissing, for example, much to his delight! </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Because Amin is
so loving, he allowed me to learn and grow. He gave
me the patience, respect and understanding I needed. In fact, what took place was a lot like healing. He helped me release things that I didn't even know I was carrying. I couldn't have achieved all of that by sitting back and hoping for the best. This kind of situation is one you have to work at, you and your
partner. Most people figure that kisses should be effortless. If
you experience any trouble or fear like I did, though, it requires
conscious effort to turn around. That is what Amin and I did and we
were successful.</span></span></em><o:p><span style="color: #8e7cc3;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">
</span><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">You need to
have someone who cares about you enough to work with you. That is what I
found in Amin. That is when, I think, you really find the "true
love" part of True Love's Kiss. Beyond finally having
a great kiss, you know that your partner truly loves you.</span> </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Georgia","serif";"></span></em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">True Love's Kiss ♥</span></em></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA1ius5e39jh5bBhrJaXiDuOllYupbKKQGhE7mFfo1g9V68CBuL-Vp4Xe8dum3zfqvr7yGFnM8KQP2k_TeyE9Sx9YMFT_d2RKC9wA_rQRwhnjFM8FfSAXlkbITdw7ybTMqm-qIxTlY-M/s1600/PDVD_514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOA1ius5e39jh5bBhrJaXiDuOllYupbKKQGhE7mFfo1g9V68CBuL-Vp4Xe8dum3zfqvr7yGFnM8KQP2k_TeyE9Sx9YMFT_d2RKC9wA_rQRwhnjFM8FfSAXlkbITdw7ybTMqm-qIxTlY-M/s320/PDVD_514.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-14505542924420130262013-05-31T13:47:00.002-04:002013-05-31T18:00:41.830-04:00True Love's Kiss<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hopeful 4 Hopeless 6</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">I have read more than once that the overwhelming majority of women believe that the first kiss will tell them a lot about a relationship's potential. Many women will decide whether or not to date a man based on this one factor. While I would agree that kissing is an important element in any romantic relationship, what is so important about the very first one?</span></em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnteVR2gIxNL-JiFAzPXq8wj7n7bByzpkRyo4Uaaloks93j95UZII0EUlcpH0T7R5_znZssG1aqsXNoqdNSZZY3cHnt7gM0I6UoUqwMalfLpuOFLUvm60xAWNjq88t7blazjcsJ30f8mg/s1600/Snow+White+kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnteVR2gIxNL-JiFAzPXq8wj7n7bByzpkRyo4Uaaloks93j95UZII0EUlcpH0T7R5_znZssG1aqsXNoqdNSZZY3cHnt7gM0I6UoUqwMalfLpuOFLUvm60xAWNjq88t7blazjcsJ30f8mg/s320/Snow+White+kiss.jpg" width="320" /></a><em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">I have been reflecting on this question for a little while and frankly the only explanation I came up with was the fairy tale one. We've been brought up with this idea of "true love's kiss", that magical moment where the world stops turning. The kiss that can solve all your problems (or curses) and inevitably lead to Happily Ever After. Yet, if you asked the average person, they would tell you that they do not subscribe to such fantastical notions. However, I don't see how else you could explain the attitude about the first kiss...</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">It's great if that is the way it turns out for you, a first kiss with fireworks and symphonies. You have the fairy tale and you are lucky; a few of us get to glimpse such moments. For the rest of us, there is what happens in real life, or shall we say, what happens for most people. The first kiss is timid, or exploratory. The first kiss is out of balance or out of synch with your partner. The first kiss is just the tip of the iceberg with so much more to discover. It is not necessarily representative of all future kisses or possibilities.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">My very first kiss was in fact one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.</span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"></span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Frédéric and I had taken a walk in the park. We sat down for a rest on a bench and were talking about many things. I kicked myself for realizing too late that he had asked me out on a date and I had declined. I was not available on the day in question, but also did not add anything encouraging like "perhaps another time". The conversation continued on to horoscopes and astrological signs and we were in agreement that these things should not be taken too seriously. Yet, he had said, "Maybe I should pay more attention to them." So a couple of minutes later, I asked what he had meant and he explained that on the compatibility chart, Libra (my sign) and Gemini (his) had "a big heart". I forced myself to remain calm and neutral, "Oh really? I didn't know that..." That is when he looked at me seriously and asked if I liked him. I took a very big deep breath and said, "I am very interested in you; I have to be honest." And I held that breath, waiting for his reply. He said, "Je suis soulagé," and it was very visible: a wave of relief washed over his entire body. Then he proceeded to say that he had felt like kissing me a few moments earlier. Since that feeling was mutual and he obtained my permission, he leaned over and kissed me. Back then, I thought this was quite romantic. When I think about it now, I get queasy.</span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"></span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">I thought it was the perfect moment. Except for the kiss. The idea of the moment finishing in a kiss was blissful. The actual kiss had me freaked out. Frédéric was saying that he hadn't dated in a couple of years and apologizing for being rusty. I couldn't tell. I couldn't think about what he was saying. I had just hit extreme fear instead of ecstasy and was confused as to how that could happen. I seemed to be aware that you could be nervous during a first kiss, but I was way beyond that. I was shaking and had lain my head on his shoulder, apologizing before he did, saying I had "not been ready for that". I was very happy to have shared my feelings for him and to have heard that they were reciprocated, so I was content while talking with him and walking back. When we parted that day, though, he pulled me in for a second kiss and all of my severe anxiety returned. I realized I had a serious problem. I even spiked a mysterious fever that day, after seeing Frédéric. I felt so terrified, I felt sick. I had no other symptoms and it disappeared by the next day. Clearly kissing disagreed with me. Sometimes I wonder if that wasn't my warning not to date him. In any case, to my way of thinking, it was a pretty extreme reaction and it made me feel completely abnormal. </span></span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">Now I know better. It took me awhile to figure this out, but feeling strange or even not so great about the first kiss is normal enough. And it is okay. I thought, again erroneously, that I had perhaps picked the wrong guy and that is why the kiss didn't feel good. While it is true that I didn't make a good pick with Frédéric, that is not why kissing him was a problem. I hoped that the next guy I kissed would change all of that. As I have hinted, though, my first kiss with Amin also threw me. All of those familiar feelings of acute anxiety returned. I was doubly scared this time in a way, because I had hoped for something magical to happen. I had hoped not only not to feel terrified, but to feel good. I didn't have high hopes or expectations; I didn't require spectacular. I just didn't want to feel bad. I was not so lucky. What Amin allowed me to learn, though, is that it is normal and it is okay to feel the way that I did. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">So the next time you are thinking about the first kiss or you are about to experience one, try not to set your expectations at spectacular. It's great for you if you have that perfect moment. It is also okay if you don't. My mother told me when the subject came up in my first weeks of dating Amin that experiencing a great kiss for a girl depends on so many factors: the guy, the atmosphere, the way you are sitting or standing, your hormones, your stress level, etc. If only I had discovered this secret years ago! I would not have spent such a long time feeling bad and abnormal. Go on dreaming of a True Love's Kiss. You will get there, on the first kiss, or the third one, or... the number is not important. You may indeed have met a charming prince, even if the first kiss didn't spell out Happily Ever After instantaneously. The important thing really is how you feel about him and how he feels about you: that is what leads to a True Love's Kiss.</span></em><em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"> </span></em><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibA-lQmPWA6a215_4eUaC1rLaCzw2x9st5bI9RYxvJXtf4B9qg3fcar3Jiun_mRtXd9jGzya2f_1CAcWDrsgX9VwK5qI-MbFg0q8-CYcmH5fQOesoyR71bhwb9mAlh0YmxZNcIx2gb4l4/s1600/Snow+White+reaches+for+prince.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibA-lQmPWA6a215_4eUaC1rLaCzw2x9st5bI9RYxvJXtf4B9qg3fcar3Jiun_mRtXd9jGzya2f_1CAcWDrsgX9VwK5qI-MbFg0q8-CYcmH5fQOesoyR71bhwb9mAlh0YmxZNcIx2gb4l4/s320/Snow+White+reaches+for+prince.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>"Anyone could see that the prince was charming: the only one for me..."</em></span></td></tr>
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"> </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-53678166765367781532013-05-27T14:19:00.000-04:002014-11-08T15:22:12.533-05:00First Days<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 3 Hopeless 8</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>There weren't many days left to October after Amin and I started dating, so I figured that an October entry would not be necessary. In any case, the feeling that I had in the first days continued into November. It was an important period of adjustment for me. </em></span><em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">I realize that in my latest entry, I gave the impression that my feelings were clearer than they actually were at the time. It took me much longer than I indicated to feel secure in my choice. Most of me anyways had decided that I wanted to try dating Amin, that I liked him a lot and that I was ready to take a leap, despite what my fears were telling me. The transition was not all that smooth or that simple, however.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">I remember that everything felt surreal for a while. As far as I know, a lot of people experience that, the feeling of "I can't believe this actually happened!" It did happen: I had a boyfriend. That word seemed so foreign to me. In December, a full two months later, I recall telling someone and still hesitating as I said it, or taking a really big deep breath: "Amin... my boyfriend". I could hardly believe it at first. I knew I was going to have to get used to it.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">I felt silly: how romantic is it to think that you have to get "used" to having a boyfriend? I wanted to share my life with someone in that way, yet it seemed that I wasn't accustomed to sharing like that. Everything felt strange. I remember sitting down with my Mom and my sister the next morning, on October 26th. They asked me how the evening had gone with Amin and so I announced that we were dating, to which my mother said, "excellent" (my sister was also quite pleased about my news). I continued talking with my Mom after that, saying that I still had a lot of fears. I was terrified that I was making a mistake. I doubted my feelings and that I had made the right decision. What felt abnormal to me was also the feeling of confusion about my identity. Who was Elise if she was not single? Who was Elise with a boyfriend? One of my defining and steadfast qualities for the longest time had been the fact that I was single. I was not a commitment-phobe, nor am I one. But I experienced vertigo at the thought of being someone's girlfriend. I wondered if I was still me. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">I felt absurd or abnormal or immature or something for having all of these crazy thoughts and feelings. Mom told me that it was all normal. I was not all that convinced by her attempts to reassure me that other people did experience such feelings while dating. I still didn't like that feeling of perturbation. I always thought of myself as someone sure of herself and here I was having all kinds of strange doubts and countless other emotions. It is really difficult to put into words the uncertainty and uneasiness that I felt. Despite this, I was determined to try, to give my absolute best effort. To do that, I needed to breathe and let these feelings subside or resolve themselves. I had to believe that they would, given time.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">Through it all, Amin was very understanding. He was very eager to help me to feel at ease, yet very patient to let my feelings come around in their own time. He always told me that my comfort level and my happiness were a priority. He implored me to talk about how I was feeling and to tell him what he could do to help me feel better. I wanted to work through the majority of these things on my own, but it was so wonderful to know that I had his full support. I knew I could lean on him if needed, but that he would also give me the independence to sort things out on my own. He let me know that since we were a team, we could each make efforts on our own, but that some of those efforts would also be together to move forward and achieve common goals. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">What I did in those first days was really try to be calmer, to talk myself out of some of my fears and strange feelings. I also let Amin in on some of my feelings where I felt I could use his help. The first thing I discussed with him was my feelings about public displays of affection. I had been nervous about bringing the subject up, but I am really glad that his encouragement led me to talk about it earlier than I had planned to. It turns out that I had nothing to worry about, because we were quite of the same opinion on the matter. We decided on what we were both comfortable expressing in public, which was a hug hello and a hug goodbye (accompanied by a kiss on the cheek in less crowded places) as well as holding hands. I had not predicted such a simple and favourable outcome to that discussion, but I was greatly relieved to obtain it. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">Those first days were filled with taking deep breaths and working at not having strange feelings over very normal things. I was learning to grow accustomed to words like "boyfriend", but also to terms of endearment, which surfaced very quickly. Amin had just barely been holding back feelings before we began dating. He had begun complimenting me more than I would allow a friend to, so I had to tell him to refrain from voicing most of them. As soon as we started dating, though, he was no longer limited. I was more ready to hear such sentiments from him, but there was still a certain amount of adjusting to do. I am glad most of this happened online. We were still chatting every day, so the first time that he called me "sweetheart", for example, was on my screen. Some of these things were comfortable and others less. I liked being called "sweetheart", but I still struggled with some compliments. Through the computer screen, Amin could hardly tell the difference. It allowed me to respond well or to give the impression of a little more than I felt while I waited for my feelings to catch up. This is another point that I talked to him about right away. I had mentioned it on October 25th, that he had liked me for a long time, but that my feelings were newer and thus not as strong as his; consequently, I had some catching up to do to reach his level. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">That is why Amin was quite ready to say "I love you" and talk about how much he loved me right from the beginning. I had to be careful how I reciprocated on this. I could not let on too much more than I felt, but I could hardly let too many of those go by without reciprocating. I realized that, though I may not have loved Amin as much as he did me at that point, there were feelings there. I was very fond of him as a friend, which, one could argue, could justify using the word "love" on its own. I had some romantic feelings to back that up, so I figured there was no reason not to say "I love you" in a way. I knew that when I said it, it would not mean exactly what he meant when he said it. I hoped that soon they would mean exactly the same thing. I titled the conversation file in my computer for the day that I said it the first time: "I love you too". It was October 31st, the first time I had seen Amin in person since we had started dating. I am glad it had been nearly a week. I had had some time to collect myself and we had settled matters such as public displays of affection. We had talked about doing something for Halloween, but had never finished that discussion. It so happened that I had an important assignment due the next day for my Methodology class, so I had to be in the library after class for awhile. He joined me and brought some work of his own. It was hardly romantic, but that is one of the things I love about Amin: he, like me, doesn't require everything to be spectacular all the time, but can appreciate simple moments like sitting working in the library next to each other. Such is the life of the dating student: study dates. He and I were also on the same page about not letting our relationship jeopardize our school work. It was a low-pressure meeting for me, which really helped. I felt distracted like I had the last two times I had seen him, but I managed to come out with a sufficient amount for my preliminary bibliography. I know that Amin was distracted too because he freely admitted to it while chatting when I got home. I had been wearing a medieval vest that day to feel a bit dressed up for Halloween. The vest is something done up a lot tighter than anything I would normally wear. He was trying his best not to look at me to avoid kissing me in the middle of the library. I sensed that and tried to limit my eye contact and things like that to make it easier on him. Later in that online conversation, when he made one of his favourite exclamations, "I really love you", that is when I answered, "I love you too". </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">Amin's understanding, respect, patience and support was </span></em><em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">exactly as I could've wished. Given time, it allowed me to not only become comfortable as his girlfriend, but very happy.</span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-91813407498415287672013-05-25T21:05:00.001-04:002013-05-25T21:05:31.443-04:00Catching Up<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hopeful 4 Hopeless 8</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I realize that I have been neglectful of my blog of late. I noticed the other day that I didn't write any entries for the month of April, which is a first for me; normally I have at least one post per month! I have been sincerely wanting to update. My workload this past school term has been considerable and has preventing me from posting on a regular basis. My health has also not been very good lately, so I have needed to focus more on feeling better than on other things. I hope to be able to catch up entirely in the next few weeks. Again, my apologies to readers who have been left in suspense!</span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-77047704422671719032013-03-30T20:17:00.000-04:002013-03-30T20:17:41.160-04:00The End of One Story, The Beginning of Another<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 6 Hopeless 4</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>So now you know how Amin and I started dating. I wish I had been able to get to the end of my story a lot faster! I didn't meant to keep people in suspense for such a long time. There were just so many details to write and I thought it was important to explain the entire process really well. That helps give people the most accurate idea of what it is like to take on online dating as possible. It also helped show my thought process and how I arrived at Amin, rather than just saying out of the blue: "So I'm dating him now...".</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>It is the end of a story and yet it is only the beginning of another. I don't know about you, but when the words "Happily Ever After" flash across the screen at the end of the movie, I only find it satisfying to a certain extent. It always begs the question: what happened after? what were those happy days like? how did they work things out? did they really make it? Yet, these questions are never answered.</em></span><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Georgia;">It was never the point of my blog to write only when I was single and to stop when I found someone to date. There are still many things to write about and express even when you have your "happily ever after". There is the whole rest of the story, or if you will, the beginning of a new one. I will not, however, go through every small detail as I have been so far. It would make for an interminable task for me and would certainly bore anyone reading! What I would like to do, is write an entry for each month to relate certain events and perhaps add one or two extra if there is a theme entry that suggests itself.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I keep this blog because it always reminds me to stay Hopeful. That is something that I firmly believe you need when you are single and also when you are dating. "Happily Ever After" is never quite so smooth in real life as in fairy tales; it comes with joy but also with trials. That is where the Hope comes in and becomes crucial. It, along with diligent effort, is what helps you to surmount all the odds.</span></span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>Thank you, Amin, for giving me extra reasons to be Hopeful. I love you </em><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">♥</span></span><span style="color: black;"><em> </em></span></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-42658461924750119542013-03-30T20:15:00.001-04:002013-03-30T20:15:15.579-04:00Just Stop Your Whining<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 6 Hopeless 4</em></span><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">On Thursday, October 25th, I met Amin after school. We had agreed on a place that was public but not too public. He had asked that it be a bit quieter, so that if he had any strong feelings, it would not be so embarrassing. Yet, there was also an advantage to being in a busy place; people are less likely to notice you in the crowd. I forget exactly how we came up with this, but we settled on the food court of the Complexe Desjardins.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">We met first in the metro and headed there together. My stomach had been doing somersaults all day. The conversation I'd had with Amin the night before had made me feel a bit more cheerful and more hopeful. I had to at least try to see if he would date me. I had thought to just skip to the part about not being able to date him, but I managed to convince myself to give him all the information. My fears screamed at me all day that I should not admit to having any feelings for him and that I was better off staying single. I kept swallowing hard and pushing them down as best as I could. They were truly in full force that day even as Amin and I were making our way to the Complexe.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">We both got some tea at the Café Dépôt in the food court. We had quickly learned that not only were we both chocoholics, but also tea drinkers. He went for black tea, which would normally have been my choice. Seeing as I was rattled, though, I knew I had to have something herbal to calm my nerves. We surveyed the food court and found that one of the least crowded areas was actually the section called The Gazebo. It is usually my preferred place to sit, because the painted scene on the ceiling makes for a nicer atmosphere. Amin pulled his chair up next to me again, to hear well. I don't know whether sitting across from me or beside me would've created more tension. I just sipped some of my mint tea and tried to breathe.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">He had asked me to be as direct as possible for what I had to say. I tried my best, but people who know me well know that it is difficult for me to be succinct most of the time. I also wanted to be as diplomatic as possible in such a conversation, which usually requires more words rather than less words. Amin, however, doesn't like to be in suspense for any length of time on such matters and also finds it less than genuine to say things such as: "I like you, you're a really nice guy (etc., etc., listing personal qualities), but..." He believes you should skip this unnecessary and possibly insincere flattery and just get to the point. I couldn't. I had to preamble. I couldn't help myself. I apologized for it, saying that it was too ingrained in my personality, but that I would be as brief as possible. I explained to him that I had thought about what I wanted to say, but that expressing it was difficult. I entreated him not to interrupt me, even if I was pausing a lot. It was simply my trying to get out what I wanted to say. I said something like, "If you see me waving my hand like this, it is because I am still trying to talk." I said that I would like his input, but to please let me finish first. I told him to let me talk first and that I promised I would invite him to share his thoughts afterwards. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">He agreed. I took a few deep breaths. Despite my preamble aimed at calming myself down and easing us into this difficult conversation, I was still really worked up. Amin noticed. He could see how nervous I was, because my hands had started shaking. He took them in his. He hadn't held my hand since September 28th and this time, I made no objections. "Hey... your hands are shaking," he said, as though he were saying "shhhhhhhh". It had a very calming effect. It also had a distracting affect. I had to focus on what I was saying, because it was too important.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">I told him that, though I "liked him so much" (I was quoting one of his favourite phrases), it was not possible for me to date him, because it had come to my attention that I had one of his deal-breakers. I took a deep breath and recalled what he had said about the girl he chose needing to accept the two years of absence for the military service and be willing to stay with him through that separation. I explained to him that I couldn't promise him that kind of commitment, particularly since I had no idea what the military service entailed (here, my diplomacy lapsed and I found myself blurting: "I don't know if they expect you to kill people!"). I reminded him that my life was not fixed at this point either, because I was still studying and may well end up in Toronto within the next year or so to pursue my next degree. I told him that I wanted to date him, but that I could only promise him what I had now, such as it was. He was looking at me perplexed, which made me feel discouraged. That had all been difficult enough to say once; I didn't want to have to repeat it. I also didn't know how I could reformulate it to make it more comprehensible. I rephrased a couple of things and Amin started catching on. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">He had been so convinced that I was going to tell him that I didn't want to date him, he was too stunned to understand what I had actually been saying. He could hardly believe that I was sitting next to him telling him that I chose him. He hardly thought it was possible. Though we are both the type to make a serious commitment, we both found ourselves agreeing to a short-term relationship, a "see-where-it-goes" arrangement. It was my turn to be surprised, that after all his pronouncements of the other night were not as serious as I'd thought and he further explained that the military service question might be mute anyways, as he had high hopes for an exemption. He told me that he was content with my "best try". My Mom said that it was just like a bad romance novel, where the characters don't know that their affection is mutual and assume that a romantic relationship would not be possible. What struck me as "bad" was that it was one of the most unromantic speeches I had EVER made and in fact, probably one of the most unromantic speeches I had ever heard of! I suppose this is more what it is like in real-life as opposed to the colourful stories we grow up with...</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">It was all Amin could to keep his emotions bottled up. He had been trying with more or less success for some weeks and had been as calm as possible while I was talking. He hit his breaking point, however, and when the subject of vibes and the Gardens date came up; he just reached over the table and kissed me. I should've expected this, but I was nevertheless very surprised by the kiss. It had been such a long time for me that my head was swimming; I had not been ready for that. I could see how happy Amin was, so I decided on the spot not to say anything, so as not to upset such a special moment for him.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">Given the hour, I was beginning to lose energy because I had not eaten since lunch. Attentive as ever, he suggested we just stay put and get some supper. I was really glad we did that; it helped normalize things for me. It helped my anxiety start to come down. I was once again able to simply enjoy spending time with him. We continued talking after eating. I am sure Amin felt like never letting that evening end. He always insists, despite whatever I say about that day, that it was such a wonderful, happy day for him, one of the very best in his entire life. I was thinking in more practical terms, about the necessity of getting home before I got too tired and things like that. I didn't want to cut anything short, either, so it was a question of finding the right balance. I think we achieved that.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">Two more kisses, holding hands and sitting resting my head on his shoulder with his arm around me rounded off the evening. He accompanied me half of the way home. It was out of his way, but as he is fond of saying, it bought him more time to spend with me. It was at that point that I had relaxed enough to start feeling happy too. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It began to remind me what it was like to be in a relationship. Yet, it was so different at the same time. It was better. Everything was better. I couldn't help feeling that this was exactly what it was supposed to feel like when you have a boyfriend. It was surreal for me, a feeling that persisted for awhile.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Georgia;">I was glad that I managed to find the courage to tell Amin how I felt. It really reminded me of the song by the Ennis Sisters that I used for the title of this entry. The chorus says: "Kiss him, Go ahead and say how you feel, You've just got to show him your heart, You've just gotta tell him what's real, 'Cause girl you're gonna miss him, If you let him slip on through, Go ahead and kiss him". They say in their album that they hope people not only have the courage to kiss someone, but to do take on many other things in life, to speak their mind and fight for what they believe in. The line from the title of my post is from the last verse: "Just stop your whining, Somewhere the sun is shining, You never know till you try, I don't give advice but, You wouldn't have to tell me twice". Normally I would encourage my friends to give it a shot with a guy they really liked, so I was not about to not follow my own advice. I took "just stop your whining" as: stop worrying and fussing, don't let your fears control you. I gave it a try, and I found a spot where the sun was shining brightly. </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-59387477675378076422013-03-14T23:18:00.000-04:002013-03-25T09:18:40.093-04:00Coming to a Head<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 7 Hopeless 3</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">During the week I was waiting to tell Amin that I wanted to date him, several things occurred. Something I didn't mention in my entry "The Fight" was that Amin had been a front-runner amongst the Plenty of Fish guys for awhile. At that point, I had still had Patrick and Alexandre on my list. Alexandre simply never got back to me about meeting, so I didn't chase after him. Patrick, however, e-mailed during that week, which was a fresh reminder of this list I had made.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">Patrick had discovered my blog. I had not asked him what he had read (though I had been dying to), but prayed him not to read further. Originally I had asked him if he wanted to see the Impressionist exhibit at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. I had begun slowly to feel differently and to regret proposing that we go, because all I could think is how I should much rather go with Amin. I went back on it by offering a tea date to explain myself and my blog. Patrick, in his response in that last week of October, did not bite. He preferred to keep the museum date or suggested going for Indian food or something. He had plenty to say, though, about the blog. He admitted to having read the entry about his date and also the one I had with Huiqi. He said that my assessment of the date we had had pretty much reflected what he had observed and felt. What he elaborated on was what I had to say about Huiqi. He felt it was his duty to warn me that Huiqi did not sound "romantic" at all and that I should be careful of insecure guys like him. Patrick said that he did not wish for his advice to be intrusive. I am not sure that I felt so much that he was overstepping his bounds; he was simply expressing a frank opinion. However, it is the tone he used, not just in that section, but throughout the e-mail, that gave me a bad feeling. It made me feel like he considered me younger, less experienced and perhaps inferior to him in some way. I re-read it a lot, but I always got the same impression. Almost all the guys I had corresponded with on Plenty of Fish had been older than me, but none of them had made me to feel it. Patrick did. I did not like that feeling, so I went with my instincts. Patrick and I had talked about being open to the possibility of friendship if we didn't want to date, but that email really didn't make me feel very good, so I didn't make that overture in the response.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">Though I had already chosen Amin in my mind, it just went to show that none of the other guys had been suitable enough. Patrick confirmed that for me in that last week of October. And little did he know that I had ceased to consider Huiqi after awhile. Poor Patrick! If only he had known that by that time, I had determined that even if I didn't want to date any other of the Plenty of Fish guys, I could not date Huiqi. I had not received a lot of news from Huiqi, but one of the e-mails I did get talked about how I was "lucky" to have my illness because it gave me occasion to sleep more than most other people for my health and that sleep literally made you "beautiful" (as in "beauty-sleep"!). This basic lack of understanding of my illness and what I have to manage on a daily basis I knew would not fly. People like this I can keep as acquaintances and perhaps as friends sometimes, but they are not boyfriend material.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">It reaffirmed for me that Amin was my choice. There were truly no other possibilities but him. He beat out all of the Plenty of Fish guys. More importantly, he was my choice out of all the other guys on the planet. I became surer and surer all the time that he was the person I wanted to date.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">However, Amin and I had a conversation that week that further complicated matters. One thing that he had been very up-front about from the start was that all Iranian men have compulsory military service to complete and that he had not done this yet. He was slated to go back to Iran in 2014 after getting his PhD to fulfil this obligation to his country. What he told me, though, on October 22nd, was that the girl he chose would have to be okay with a separation of 2 years. That was not a commitment I could possibly make at that stage. I knew he was a very monogamous person, but I could not promise him forever when that amount of time can change a person so much. It can certainly change a person if they are in any kind of combat or other traumatic kind of situation. The truth was, I didn't know much about what the military service entailed, so I couldn't say for certain that any feelings for him could withstand that kind of obstacle. Yet, it was very important to him. Horrified, I realized that it was a deal-breaker for him. I had one of his deal-breakers.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">After we said good night in Farsi (the one thing he had taught me to say), I cried myself to sleep. It was a wretched feeling. I had finally managed to figure out that I liked Amin, only to discover that it was not possible to date him. I would have to seriously modify what I had planned to say to him that Friday. I had a miserable next day. I did not want to talk to him. I felt I couldn't bring myself to pretend that everything was okay when it was not. Something prompted me to chat with him anyways that evening. It cheered me up slightly.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia;">While I was chatting with him, I was finishing up my blog entry about the Gardens date. Amin was really eager to see what I thought about it. We had talked about it a little, but I had not told him everything and promised that all the details would be in the entry. He was so happy with that post that he read it several times. He was completely floored when he read the part about my feeling like kissing him. He was surprised, agitated and ecstatic all at once because at the very exact same moment I had felt this, he had too. He had not wanted to admit as much, because he thought I would find him too forward. That is the point where I went berserk. I felt I could not wait any longer, because it was simply torturous. We had this good connection, which was evidenced by these further vibes which had just been revealed due, once again, to comparing notes with my blog (though I did not mention it in my entry "The Fight", the vibes I'd experienced played a major role in my decision process as well). I knew, however, that we couldn't date, despite this amazing bond. Amin knew that I was going to give him my answer on Friday and after this conversation, I was convinced he was going to think that I was ready to date him. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get that painful conversation over with as fast as possible. I didn't want him to entertain any false hope any longer than necessary. I asked if we could move up the meeting to the next day, Thursday, instead. He agreed.</span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-5245573372299690252013-03-10T15:12:00.001-04:002013-03-10T15:16:14.855-04:00The Fight<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 8 Hopeless 3</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">After seeing Amin unexpectedly on that Thursday, I was really starting to think. I had been thinking throughout this project and particularly about Amin because it was abundantly evident by that time that he liked me a lot, so I really felt the need to give him an answer as quickly as possible. If only I could make up my mind in a timely fashion as to whether or not I wanted to date him. My reflections increased after seeing him on October 18th because additional questions resulted from that meeting.</span></em><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;"><em>As I think back on them now, these reflections were so complex that I hardly remember all of the things I was thinking! I will endeavour to write here a sampling of what was running through my mind. I was thinking that I certainly liked Amin, but more importantly: did I like him that way? Other times, I felt the internal struggle about wanting to be single versus wanting to date; apparently that fight was still active. I had to make sure that I didn't start dating Amin just because I wanted to date. The phrase "I don't have a good reason not to date him" kept coming back, but I quickly answered that with, "But not having a good reason not to doesn't mean that you have a good reason to". It is so important to date a person for the right reasons, to have legitimate reasons for entering into a relationship with someone. Otherwise you are deceiving yourself and the other person and you are sure to end up in disappointment and heartbreak (as Frédérick had taught me well). I reminded myself that I was under no obligation to choose any of the guys I had corresponded with on Plenty of Fish.</em> <em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I am embarrassed to admit that I voiced some of these thoughts to Amin; his response</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> was<span style="color: #3d85c6;">: "That is why I like you so much; you think about every single detail of making any type of relationship. You care about others' thoughts and feelings and everything and the consequences of each action!" That perhaps was the flattering way of putting it. The truth is, I am </span></span></em></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: #3d85c6;">obsessed about not repeating past mistakes, which is one of the main reasons I was not</span> only cautious, but becoming confused and somewhat stuck in the decision process. It was an intricate web in my head and I was in danger of becoming trapped in it.</em></span></span><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">I knew I had to, for my own mental health and also to not try Amin's patience indefinitely, make up my mind once and for all. Other than simple indecision, my greatest difficulty was in getting past my fears, which were speaking quite loudly. I knew that it was not reasonable for them to have such a big voice. Of course caution needed to be exercised, but I could not let my fears control my decisions. If you do that, you miss out on so many opportunities. If I really wanted to date, I had to loosen the grip of my fears and allow myself to choose a relationship, including all the potential risks, but also all the potential benefits that came with it. All that left was to determine how I truly felt about Amin. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">It sounds like a simple question, but the answer was still elusive for me. I kept looking for the typical symptoms I get when I have a crush and they seemed to be absent. I didn't feel all fluttery inside and wasn't thinking incessantly about him. My tell-tale sign is always thinking a lot about the person, if not incessantly. I wasn't getting that. It also didn't feel that yearning to date him. I still felt good being single and didn't feel like my life was lacking something. Finally, though, something Amin said to me began to percolate. He said that I kept making exceptions for him. The more and more we talked, the clearer it was for him that I had given him special treatment. I began to realize that he was right. From the very first time I met him, I granted him more than the usual coffee date: we went to see the fireworks. I had let him hold my hand in the Gardens, which I had assured him and myself was a big exception. I had invited him to my birthday celebration. I had seen him three times within the space of a week: when we went for hot chocolate, then for my birthday and finally on the Thursday I was having a bad day. He was very conscious of the fact that I did not normally schedule more than two social activities in the same week to be able to maintain the balance between my health, my school work and my social time and that furthermore I did not ordinarily see the same person more than once in the same week. He marvelled at how I should bend my rules for him. It began to dawn on me too: I had changed the rules when it came to Amin. This really crystallized for me when I thought about how I had asked him to come and see me when I was having a bad day. I wasn't acting as I normally would. Even if my emotions did not allow themselves to surface entirely, my behaviour had clearly betrayed me.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia;">There was only one conclusion to this: I liked him. I liked Amin. What had been obvious to a few people for a little while (like my mother, my sister and Stella) finally hit me. I could give up the fight; I had my answer. I liked Amin and I wanted to date him. He and I were well matched in so many ways; we had so many of the same feelings and opinions. Yet we also had enough to make us different, to permit us to have enriching exchanges. He was one of the nicest guys I had ever met: so caring, respectful, understanding and supportive. I was an idiot if I was going to let an opportunity like that slip through my fingers. Such opportunities don't arrive every day; in fact, they are very rare and precious. When you find a guy like that and you like him, you should certainly seize the chance to date. I could've told him right away, but I thought it would be best to wait until the next time I saw him in person; to me, these are just not things you say online. We had agreed to meet on the coming Friday, so everything was set. </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-1298337402532261832013-02-21T23:53:00.001-05:002013-02-26T23:36:01.505-05:00Unexpected Date<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 7 Hopeless 2</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>The same week I had my rather discouraging and upsetting conversation with Thomas, I was very busy. I had decided that I did not have time to go on any dates. I intended to resume the following week, which promised to be less hectic. That is not exactly how the week turned out after all, though.</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">That Thursday, October 18th, I had class in the afternoon. It just so happened that Steven was in this class. I had seen him the week before and chatted with him briefly after class; it had been the first time since the day that our student association voted to end their strike. Our conversation had been okay, but I was still a bit nervous. In an attempt to normalize the situation on that Thursday, I tried to casually integrate into a conversation Steven was having with a friend of his. "Did you go to the conference?" Steven asked. "I was really interested; was it any good?" When his friend responded affirmatively, I chimed in, "Listening to M Cartier is</span></em><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> always good." I had assumed wrongly that they were referring to one of the conferences in our department that week, that several people including me were just coming from (hence why I was sitting near him in the first place; seat selection was limited when you arrived late). Steven's friend corrected me, but not in a polite or friendly manner, rather with a condescending tone and energy that I didn't appreciate. Steven didn't say anything to this or say anything else that could help me integrate into the conversation, so I simply turned around in my seat and looked straight ahead of me.</span></em></span><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">I was mildly embarrassed. That was nothing compared to what happened next. Someone passing by my seat in this very cramped classroom knocked over my water bottle. It was so quick, I didn't realize what had happened for a few seconds. I don't even know if it was him or his schoolbag that knocked my water bottle over. In my confusion, I didn't react very quickly and therefore was not effective at preventing the water from going everywhere. I was most concerned about my loose leaf. It was all wet, some sheets more or less. Then I saw that some water had splashed into my lap. My sweatshirt, which had been in my lap since there was no space on the backs of the chairs in this classroom, was soaked. I quickly put it in the compartment under the chair. I was surprised to find that my pants were a bit wet, but since they were black, it didn't really show. Then I looked down to find the puddle under my chair. Still a bit dazed, I mumbled something out loud about probably needing to find a washroom for paper towel. Meanwhile, Steven and his friend did not react at all. The only thing I heard was Steven's friend make some sort of "oops" noise. There were about forty people in this class. Not one of them got up to help me. I had to make two or three trips to the bathroom to clean up the mess all over my desk while Steven and his friend watched. I was embarrassed and mildly offended besides.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">That, unfortunately was not the end of my embarrassment. It was bad enough to be sitting in class wet trying to take notes on damp or crinkly loose-leaf. The first twenty minutes of methodology class was reserved for questions aimed at research trouble-shooting. I raised my hand and asked a question that I should've spoken to the professor about after class. He was just usually so swamped with students after class, that I decided to ask during the question period instead. Big mistake. I asked if he could give me direction for my subject, narrow it down a little and if indeed that was the appropriate time to ask. This was supposed to be an any-question-goes zone, a class where there were no "stupid questions". Yet the professor looked at me and said, "But that's not your subject." I was stunned. How could I not know my own research topic? He made a slight correction to one of the words in my topic and that radically changed my research. It was important to ask before I got much further in my work, but I wish I had not done it in front of the class, because at the teacher's reaction, my classmates burst out laughing. I just wanted to disappear.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">So as soon as we had a break, I left the classroom as quickly as I could. I felt the need to get out of there. Usually I sit quietly during the break and often eat a snack to replenish my energy. Since I had been wanting to disappear for about an hour and a half, I could not fling myself out of the room fast enough. I wanted to put space between me and that class so I could clear my head. My concentration had not been very good because my embarrassment had really affected my mood. Normally I am able to put feelings aside when I am in class and focus on the lecture. For whatever reason, that day, I was not really able to do so. I went and found a computer, though I didn't have a lot of time before I had to be back in class. I had gotten an idea that I couldn't shake. It was crazy. It was also very unlike me.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">I took Amin's advice for reaching him. I sent him an e-mail, which he was certain to see on his phone. He said it was always an effective way of getting him to sign in to chat if he was not already online. Sure enough, scarce a few minutes had gone by and there he was. So I told him I was having a bad day and that for whatever reason I just couldn't shake off the bad feelings. I didn't understand why, but I was really not coping that day. I couldn't roll with anything; everything was affecting me and I was having great difficulty getting through the rest of the day. I had to stay after class for an activity for the mentoring program I had joined at school. I couldn't imagine myself doing so. In fact, I had wanted so badly not to sit through any of the class even. I felt sorely lacking in courage. I wasn't able to help myself, so I decided it was time to ask for help. I needed some support that day. Amin was ready to offer it, very ready and willing. He cancelled a meeting with his PhD supervisor; he rearranged his entire schedule just to meet me after class. His assurance that he would spend some time with me got me through the second half of my class and the activity I had to attend afterwards.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">I felt extremely strange making this request. I later realized that it was okay for me to ask for help or support, certainly. I asked the person whose schedule was most flexible and who was most likely to be available at the drop of a hat. What felt strange, was that it was so uncharacteristic of me. It was so unusual for me to essentially be falling apart based on such a slight thing as an embarrassment or two. Normally I am tougher than that and it takes a lot to stop me from getting through my day well. What was most certainly not like me was to ask someone else to help me in such circumstances, to feel that it was so very necessary. It felt like I was asking to be rescued and though I realized that was not entirely true, it still did not sit well with me at all. I despise the notion of the damsel in distress being rescued by the knight on the white horse. I most emphatically do not want it to happen to me. I want to be my own independent person, not requiring a man to save me. My internal objections, however, did not stop me from asking Amin to meet me.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">Those were not the only strange feelings that I had that day. Amin didn't say a lot; he mostly listened to me recount the story of my multiple embarrassments. He let me vent. Just talking to him began to cheer me up. While I was talking, though, all I could seem to think about was hugging him or putting a hand on his arm. I know I touched his arm a couple of times, but in my mind, I was touching him frequently. All I wanted to do was touch him. I was surprised at myself. I suppose it had been awhile since I had had such feelings and that is why they felt foreign. It made me confused: Amin was my friend; why did I feel the need to touch him? In fact, I am not even certain my reflection got that far. I must've been too preoccupied with self-restraint that I couldn't sort out what those feelings actually meant. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia;">What did emerge clearly for me, was a further illustration of Amin's character. This Thursday proved to me that he was dependable and supportive. It confirmed to me that he was a good listener and also very thoughtful and caring. He offered to stay till I was done my mentoring activity. After the function, I brought him a piece of cake to share. He was very happy with that. I thought there should be some reward for waiting for me like that and certainly the mentorship program could spare the piece. Then he accompanied me part of the way back home.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I called this entry "Unexpected Date". It didn't have most classic elements of a date. It was unexpected because I had not planned to see Amin that day and furthermore did not consider that I had time for any dates that week. He just spent a couple of hours with me at school, which is hardly romantic. Yet, other than feeling bad that day, I had some other feelings, which were quite unquantifiable...</span> </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-59364277612179970322013-02-14T11:23:00.004-05:002014-02-12T10:15:34.650-05:00Feliz Día del Amor y la Amistad<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-V2mvIjxC7Ivj2luxKbDFkhaI-ybIDowR-3-5GaYhFq1oD5YwJ0ICQgKHP4dCrjbZMzQO0xu2qNsrleAZ62Bo-H0RDDwoEzhC5dzuBhek02jXBti1XzG7rPZfuUWSYJHS5B-IIKJsGY/s1600/heart.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8-V2mvIjxC7Ivj2luxKbDFkhaI-ybIDowR-3-5GaYhFq1oD5YwJ0ICQgKHP4dCrjbZMzQO0xu2qNsrleAZ62Bo-H0RDDwoEzhC5dzuBhek02jXBti1XzG7rPZfuUWSYJHS5B-IIKJsGY/s200/heart.gif" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 8 Hopeless 2</em></span><br />
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<em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia;">The title of this entry comes from how we were taught to say Happy Valentine's Day in Spanish in high school. I thought it was a good idea to call the holiday "love and friendship day" and have become a particular fan of the expression in recent years. It encapsulates what Valentine's Day is all about.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #ea9999; font-family: Georgia;">When we hear "Valentine's Day", we conjure up lots of images. Many of these images are chocolates and flowers and big red hearts, but the rest of them tend to be of couples. Our culture focuses on having a Valentine to spend the day with. This is such a limited view of what the holiday is about. Saint Valentine did marry couples against the edict of Emperor Claudius II, but the first Valentines were actually letters to his friends from jail. So from the very beginning, this story has been about love, not just romantic love, but love in the greater sense. In fact, the person of Saint Valentine shows all aspects of love: romance, friendship and devotion to God. These are all things he lived and died for. That is what Valentine's Day is supposed to be about.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia;">Whatever happened to the days in elementary school when you would get a Valentine from every student in the class? Am I the only one who grew up in a school like that? I remember filling out 30 or more of these mini store-bought cards that had messages such as "Be mine" or "Happy Valentine's Day". That made everyone feel special and included on that day. It seems when we grow up, we lose that sense of the importance of spreading love to the people around us. That is such a shame.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #ea9999;">I have gotten trapped in the paradigm of needing a Valentine on February 14th. It is difficult not to get sucked into that feeling. I think it is understandable in the society we live in to feel lonely on Valentine's Day if you are single. I would see so many girls going by in the metro or on the street with roses. It made me feel sad that there was no one to get me flowers. I realized, though, that that is completely the wrong way of looking at it. I started getting flowers in the metro or on the street and bringing them home for my mother. She loves flowers; they really cheer her up and are quasi-therapeutic for her. If you are thinking about how you are not getting flowers, you are focusing too much on yourself. Go and get flowers for someone else and I guarantee you will feel so much better. My mother has been my Valentine since I was a little girl and she will be as long as I live, whether I am dating or whether I am not. The best part is that you are not limited to just one Valentine; you can have as many Valentines as you like!</span> </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia;">So go out and find people today. Take the time to send them a message and tell them that they are appreciated. Organize something with your friends and family. Make an occasion! Valentine's Day is not just for couples, so get together with the most important people in your life and have a great time.</span></em><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Feliz Día del Amor y la<span style="color: #cc0000;"> Amistad </span></em><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Times New Roman;">♥</span></span>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-41929011465369045732013-02-13T21:30:00.004-05:002013-02-13T21:30:35.810-05:00Vhat Vas Ve Qvestion?<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 1 Hopeless 9 </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>This is how I felt on October 15th after a conversation I had with Thomas. My mood turned abruptly while I was chatting with him online. In my own words from after that conversation: "It's on days like this where I want to give up on men entirely and am inclined to believe that there is not one decent man on this planet" (hence the hopeful-hopeless count). When I first wrote this entry on paper (most of the time, my ideas and emotions flow much better on paper, which was the case that day!), I had explained the context in which this question arose. I realized later, that there was no context in which this question could be understandable or admissible whatsoever, making half of what I wrote completely irrelevant. This is a question you never ask a girl.</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">There are a few questions that you never ask a girl. The first one, I think, is her age. This is something you learn if you have been brought up with proper manners. The second, is her weight. Beyond basic politeness, it is simply that women tend to be insecure about these two things. It is difficult when media, society and a million other factors are constantly pressuring women to look younger and slimmer all the time. Don't add to her potential self-esteem problems by asking her such questions. The question Thomas asked me was right up there with these two. I wrote on that day: "I nearly choked. Since when is it okay to just ask that question? I was so shocked. The audacity!"</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I don't care what times we live in or again under what circumstances this question comes up. It is unacceptable to ask a girl, "Are you a virgin?" It is rude and inappropriate to ask such a personal question. In fact, that question is not only personal, it is rather private. Normally that kind of information, any information regarding sexual contact or experience is for the girl to know and for her to share with her partner. It is not for common knowledge, merely to satisfy someone's curiosity. If indeed, she felt the need to share this kind of information with someone other than her partner, it would have to come from her. She would have to open up to you about it and not because you asked her.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Furthermore, this information, though it can perhaps make people curious, should not be sought after in the first place. You may have your own guess (Thomas' was instantly clear when he posed that question), but that is not something you should utter out loud. If you could refrain from guessing and wondering altogether, that would be even better. The question of whether or not someone you know is a virgin should not be relevant. You should not have a different opinion of them based on that, just like you should not think differently of them based on their age, or their weight, or their religion or their ethnic background or a million other things. Take those things out of the equation and look at the person and their qualities and form your opinion of them based on those things. Use as few labels as possible, because they usually end up being harmful one way or another.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">It had been occurring to me that Thomas and I were not well matched before that day. A few days earlier, I had blurted during a conversation with him: "What is it about you that seems to bring out all my insecurities and apprehensions?" This is very important also to consider when you are looking for a potential partner: does this person bring out the best in you? I know from my experience with my Dad that a guy can bring out the worst in a girl. I didn't always like who I was when I talked to Thomas. He seemed to draw out more of my negative emotions. He certainly did on that day, though I didn't let him have it like I should've. I was just too shocked in that moment. I felt betrayed too. That is the sort of moment I regretted letting him get to know me better. That is what I meant when I said that I didn't want just anyone to know my name and have access to my facebook page. I had given him my trust and he screwed up. He knew he screwed up too, even as he was asking that question. He should've listened to his instincts and buttoned up. Though you cannot presume to understand someone based on one thing they said or did, it was finally clear to me that Thomas and I were not compatible enough to date. He had told me he did not want to date at the moment, but that day is when I realized that even if he wanted to date later and I was in fact available, it would not fly. At that moment, I was thinking we might not even be compatible enough to be friends. If Thomas wanted to be friends, he was going to have to make a serious effort to earn my trust back. </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-51869231967444240942013-02-13T18:09:00.003-05:002013-02-13T18:10:37.447-05:00My Birthday<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 7 Hopeless 3</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">That weekend, I celebrated my birthday with my friends. It had taken me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do, so I think it didn't give people a lot of notice. For that reason, I had a modest number to go for lunch at Cacao 70. Our party comprised of Étienne, Stella and my sister. Louis had said he might be able to come, so I wasn't sure if he was going to drop in as well.</span></em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;">What I shared with my sister<br /> the first time I went to Cacao 70</span></td></tr>
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<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">I was really looking forward to going. I had been to Cacao 70 once with my sister and really enjoyed it. I was thinking about it a lot the day before. That is when I started getting the idea that I should issue a supplementary invitation. I kept turning it over and over in my mind and finally decided on it: I should ask Amin if he would like to join us. It seemed so logical to me. I was going out with my friends for chocolate. He was both my friend and a fellow chocoholic. He talked about not having a friend to go and have chocolate with, so he would certainly be glad for the opportunity and would be sure to enjoy the chocolate. The direct consequence of doing this would be that it would also integrate him more into my life. It would put him on an equal footing with my other friends and it would prove to him that I treated him just like I did them. It would be elevating his status and I really wanted to give him higher status. I felt that that is where he should be.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">At first, Amin was not biting. I was stunned: how could he refuse chocolate?! He said it was very thoughtful of me to invite him, but that he should not meet my friends at this time. I had anticipated the possibility of him being nervous, but I did not expect it to stop him from going. So I used my powers of persuasion, which seemed rather effective on him. I talked to him about what would make him feel more comfortable. I explained that it was going to be a small party, which is one of the reasons I thought it was more than acceptable to ask him along. I knew he was a bit on the shy side, so I wasn't going to expose him to a lot of different people at once. He was still hesitant. Finally we got to the root of the matter: he was feeling a bit odd about what my friends would think, given that we had met online. This is something I suppose I had thought about myself. It is perhaps a bit awkward to admit to meeting someone online. It is becoming more and more common, but I think it still feels a bit strange or embarrassing. It was such an easy fix, though: no one had to know! So we decided what our story should be. It was nothing elaborate, but fun to concoct at the same time. I suppose it is the writer in me that likes to create stories and make-believe like when I was a kid. We settled on having met "at school". It is simple to retain and not the sort of answer that usually brings on a lot of questions. What made it exciting was that it was our secret. It was also sufficient for Amin to feel comfortable and for him to agree to come. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">I had set the time for 1:00, but I had a hiccup that caused me to run late. I was positively mortified: I was late for my own celebration! My sister got on her cellphone and began texting to let Étienne and Amin know. Stella was with us as we made our way to Cacao 70. Amin replied and said that he had found Étienne and that they were waiting for us (it turns out that I had miscopied Étienne's number for some reason, so he never got the message; it was lucky indeed that he had collided with Amin!). I was nearly dying, because it was such an odd scenario. Here was the person who had encouraged me to go on Plenty of Fish, Étienne, sitting with one of the people I had met on the site, Amin. I was positively squirming, because neither of them knew who exactly they were talking to! I would've loved to be a fly on the wall at that point to see what on earth they were saying.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">We arrived fashionably late; I suppose the only advantage was making an entrance at my own party. I stood up on my tiptoes to give Étienne a hug and I went over to give Amin one. I made a nervous joke about how they had obviously gotten along all right because they hadn't killed one another. I slunk sheepishly into a chair as soon as possible. Since Étienne was sitting beside him, I made sure to choose the seat in front of Amin, to make sure that I was nearby. After all, I was the only person he knew there, so I had to make sure that he was comfortable. Even later, when my sister and I needed to sit together to share our chocolate, I did not move from that spot. I asked Stella and her if they could switch places instead.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">It was a very pleasant outing. Much was talked of, particularly Étienne's exciting job opportunities and Stella's upcoming trek to the base camp of Mount Everest to raise funds for cancer research. The person who talked the most was undoubtedly my sister. She had lots of energy that day, which will bring out her very sociable and bubbly personality. She was the life of the party certainly that day and was the main reason (besides chocolate) that it was such a nice birthday celebration. I have always been quieter than her by nature and sitting back listening to her talk that day, I was not feeling that she was stealing my spotlight or anything; I was just feeling that she had so many interesting and intelligent things to say and feeling very proud of her. Amin had been self-conscious about being older than my friends, but here was the youngest out of everyone and she was just awesome. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">I had a good time and everyone else professed that they did also. I received a small gift from Stella: a black and red necklace. She said it was not a proper birthday gift, but I was happy for this thoughtful token of friendship. When we left Cacao 70, it was raining a little. None of us were really equipped except Amin. He gallantly offered to share his umbrella with Stella (which would've been a challenge, since she is tall!), but she declined. None of us seemed too worried about the rain, since it was so slight. So Amin came over to me and asked. I could hardly refuse such a kind gesture. My sister and Étienne got ahead of us, then so did Stella. Amin and I brought up the rear under his umbrella. I was feeling a bit strange at that point, perhaps recalling that afternoon with Giles. What I remember is that I could not look at Amin and consequently didn't stay under the umbrella very well. I couldn't find much to say, but he wasn't very talkative in any case. I had been a bit concerned about him. I had expected he would mostly listen rather than talk, since he was unfamiliar with my friends and that he would probably be observing how I interacted with the others. However, much as he was surrounded by lots of chocolate and a near infinite menu of delicious chocolate choices, he only had a milkshake. That is what worried me; I could hardly reconcile that with the chocoholic I knew he was! What I later discovered is that his meal times are different from the ones I keep, so it was simply a question of appetite.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Georgia;">I talked later with Amin and finally got to hear his enthusiasm about the outing. He said that I had very nice friends and he was glad I invited him. He was curious to know what my friends thought of him, but they could hardly give me feedback based on one such occasion. Stella, however, had remembered Amin from my conversation with her after the Gardens date. She asked me if I was dating him or not yet and how I felt about him. I could not offer a clear-cut answer at that time, which she thought was strange. She thought I should not be so confused about how I felt about Amin and where I wanted him to fit in my life. I was glad to have the opportunity to ask her to shake his hand rather than kiss him as a greeting, which he greatly appreciated. The one thing Stella did say afterwards, which I refused to repeat to Amin, was that we had chemistry. I didn't understand how she could possibly tell something like that, based on an outing in a group setting where he and I didn't interact a lot. She said she simply could not explain it, but that is exactly what she felt. I take people's intuition seriously as well as the assessment of someone on the outside looking in on a scenario, so I kept what she said in mind. What puzzled me, though, was how she had felt something, but I hadn't... </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-65745481722731407252013-01-28T10:36:00.001-05:002013-01-28T10:40:13.681-05:00I Have Not Learned to Refuse<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 8 Hopeless 2</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>The title of this post is inspired by a quote from Margaret Hale in the BBC Miniseries North & South. "I have not learned to refuse" is something she says to describe her struggle to decline a man's offer in such a way that it does not unduly hurt or offend him. She does not succeed, unfortunately, in being diplomatic. This skill, the ability to decline or refuse a guy is something that I expected to learn during my project with Plenty of Fish. I expected that I would have the opportunity to practice and that I would get better at it. Yet, like Margaret, I never really managed to do this quite right.</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;"><em>The day after I went out for hot chocolate with Amin, I received a curious e-mail. It was from Paul. For whatever strange reason, I did not expect a message from him. I had put him out of mind and didn't expect him to crop up again. He opened with, "There is a new revelation about the south Pole and north Pole ice diminishing, actually they say south Pole gained some this year (1%) of total.." I was completely bewildered. This was his opening to ask me out for coffee to "talk about it". I suppose this is what people mean when they say that a guy is "using a line". I guess I haven't really been subject to many in my life, even during my Plenty of Fish project. That is why I was stunned. The entire e-mail gave me a very bad vibe, just reconfirming all of my instincts again.</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;">I had decided after meeting Paul that I would not go out with him again. My opinion was unchanged and rather reinforced by this e-mail. Anyone I showed it too also found it really weird. That is when it came time to answer and refuse. I waited a day, hoping that would help me collect my thoughts. All I came out with was a few brief lines about being busy and that I would "let him know". So I did not directly say "no thank you; not interested". I just put him off. I was stuck in his paradigm about not corresponding unless I had time in my schedule to see him. I thought it would be clear that I didn't have time for him if I didn't write. It was probably not very generous of me and it completely side-stepped practicing how to let a guy down gently.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;">I received a reply the same day. That one also made me shudder because I was uncomfortable with the manner in which he complimented me (see Perplexing Paul for more details). He was putting me in all sorts of boxes again and repeating the same words. He claimed he understood about my being busy. I took a deep breath and hoped that that was the very last e-mail I would receive from him.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia;">The other e-mail dilemma I needed to solve was for Patrick. That day I sat down at my computer and worked out something that I hoped sounded not as unsettled as I felt. I told him a bit about my classes and then tackled the question of the blog. We had been considering another outing, but I suggested that we go for another tea to have the opportunity to talk, given that he had found my blog and possibly also had read it. I added that in the meantime, I would be grateful if he didn't read. By this, I wanted to get a chance to sit down with him and explain to him how my project came about and answer any questions he might have. If he had indeed read my entire blog (which I was by no means certain of, given how vague he was) without hearing any explanations from me personally, I thought that he could quite possibly wish to reject me simply based on some of the things I wrote. His reply to my e-mail came over a week later and I will discuss it in an upcoming post.</span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-12462226593488453932013-01-28T00:15:00.004-05:002013-09-09T09:30:50.345-04:00Two Chocoholics<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Hopeful 8 Hopeless 2</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Amin was pleasantly surprised when I found him a spot in my schedule that second week of October. My comfort level with him was such that I felt, though our first dates were spectacular in nature, we didn't need to stand on ceremony and could plan something more casual. I thought it would be good to sit down across from him at a table since neither of our meetings had yet taken this format. There were a couple of serious subjects I needed to sit him down and talk about in person (they had been touched upon in certain online chats, but never directly). Since discovering that he was also a chocoholic, I had made up my mind that we should go to the Starbucks at Chapters for hot chocolate, to which Amin heartily agreed.</em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">It was not all that easy to meet him on that day. Like I mentioned in some earlier posts, it felt strange to let him push ahead to a third date ahead of the others. I had also been up late the night before rather agitated and upset and some of that concerned him directly (see Busted for more details). I was trying to breathe as much as possible and put all the concerns from the night before out of my mind. I couldn't help but feel nervous, though, especially since on top of that, I had a difficult conversation to have with Amin.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">I met him after my afternoon class on October 11th. We both expected that he would probably arrive first. I was still, however, glancing nervously at my watch, because I was later than I'd hoped. Amin knew that I had given him an approximate time, but I still hate to keep people waiting. When I got to the second floor, though, I didn't see him. I was stunned. I could not possibly have arrived first. I looked again. I checked to see if he had grabbed us a spot. Still nothing. I thought I was going a little crazy. He HAD to be there...</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">So I decided to browse, or at least look like I was actually browsing until I ran into him. Inside, I was still a little flipped out. Where on earth could he be? I was in the bargain books... hmmmmm... nothing interesting. Then I went, as per my habit, to scan the philosophy section for Blaise Pascal's Pensées. As usual, they had lots of Plato, but no Pascal. Then I tried History. Still no Amin. Good grief, where was he?! If I thought I was out of my tree before arriving, I certainly was by then.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">By that time, I was back at the Starbucks, which means I had covered the entire floor. I didn't know what else to do. Suddenly, there he was, saying "Hi". Still surprised, I found myself giving him a hug, which was now officially our greeting. I didn't beleive it. I had seen him without knowing it. I hadn't recognized him in this red, black and white plaid shirt from behind. He confirmed it by telling me that he had been browsing in the religion section: I had certainly seen him. I simply told him that he had been in one of the best sections in Chapters; it was entirely true and I must confess that I was impressed.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">We got into the Starbucks line. Just as we were approaching the counter, Amin turned to me and asked me if he could get me my hot chocolate, on the occasion of it being my birthday that week. I knew that it was important to him to take a girl out, so I thought he might play the birthday card to that end. I had thus decided in advance what my answer would be should he do that. I had decided to let him have a turn doing what was comfortable for him, as he had let me do what was comfortable for me. I also reasoned that if he was at the friendship level in my book, it was totally legitimate for him to get me my hot chocolate, because friends can do that sometimes, particularly if it is your birthday. Seeing it in that light made it easier for me to accept and be gracious. I hope I pulled that off.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">We got a seat near the window looking out over Saint Catherine street. Instead of sitting across from me, he pulled his chair up right next to me. He said that it was so that he could hear me clearly, differentiate my voice from the background noise. Normally that Starbucks is rather on the quiet side, but I could not successfully argue that on that day; it was rather noisier than usual. Amin added, "I need to hear every word because every word you use is important." I clearly knew too many guys whose philosophy was that women say too many inanities. Even some of the people closest to me kindly remind me sometimes when I am redundant or long-winded. I could hardly believe it: here was someone who was hanging on my every word! Talk about validating. He seemed to understand the concept that each word has meaning and importance and reveals something about the personality of the speaker or writer. I don't know many people who believe this. I was amazed. I would later discover that Amin is not only attentive to such details, but also has a phenomenal memory for them! Stop the press: a guy who actually remembers things! In fact, he remembers so faithfully that his recall exceeds mine at times (and I have always had a very long and accurate memory).</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">We talked for a few minutes on general subjects. I felt the need to warm up a bit before plunging right into serious ones. However, I also did not have unlimited time, due to another commitment. So I soon began with, "I said I had a few things to tell you..." I knew that I could not wait any longer to tell him about my problematic relationship with my father. From the very first, Amin had referred to me as a "family-oriented person". I felt I really needed to correct this impression. I have family values, but I am not tight with my whole family. It was important for me to say because he very well could have been looking for a girl from a solid family, brought up with good values and who also got along well with each member of her family. It is really important to some people and that is kind of how Amin read to me. So I strongly felt the need to dispel the myth I thought he must believe about my familial relationships. It was also a big piece of the puzzle to understanding my personality and my general feelings towards men, in essence, something that a friend should probably know and that a potential date should definitely know.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">I think I was too nervous to be particularly articulate that day. I remember having difficulty explaining myself and often stopping abruptly trying to find words or link to the next idea. Amin was patient and mostly just listened. Finally, he told me that the family dynamics I was describing to him were not unfamiliar and were in fact much like his own. It was such a relief to know that he understood from personal experience what my family situation is like. He was pretty quiet talking about it and his calmness was transferring to me a little. I thought right then that he probably had the potential to teach me how to be calmer about my relationship with my Dad. I was starting to feel less nervous as the conversation continued. Amin reassured me that when he had said "family-oriented", he did not mean that he expected I necessarily had a perfect relationship with all the members of my family. So despite what I told him that day, he still considered me family-oriented. He reminded me of something he had said about my facebook pictures; he had remarked that I was a caring sister, because it was plain to see from any pictures of the two of us. So I passed on this count.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">The other thing I wanted to discuss with Amin was vibes. Both he and I had gotten rather agitated while chatting on October 4th upon the discovery that we had both felt the same energy during our first date. He was rather more unsettled, because it was the first time he had had an experience like that. For me it was not the first time and I had vaguely typed something like this once or twice. So I thought I should sit him down and explain to him what that meant and tell him what I had experienced in the past. Doing this could have had one of several outcomes, mainly revolving around whether or not he believed what I had to say. So, at the risk of sounding like I was making something up, or that I was a bit nutty, I told him about my past experience. My goal had been to give him information and explanations to hopefully put his mind at ease. Well, at least as much "at ease" as you can feel when you are experiencing this kind of vibes.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">I talk generally sometimes about "getting vibes" from people. This is something that many people experience; they have an instinct or unexplained "feeling" about someone or something. Sometimes, for example, when you first meet someone, you get "good vibes", because you are sensing positive energy from that person, without your even knowing them that well. Conversely, you can also feel strange or have other forms of negative energy when you are around a person, or are in a particular place or situation. Some people argue that these sorts of feelings arise from causes you are not aware of, such as subconscious observation of body language or facial expressions, the tone of someone's voice or their choice of words, etc. I believe, though, that you can get a sense of someone or of their feelings without many or occasionally any such cues. When I was dating Frédérick, I had moments when I could sense energy from him devoid of any cues. I could be at home alone, not hearing his voice on the phone, not reading an e-mail he sent me or anything like that, and yet, I seemed to know what he was thinking about or what he was feeling at that precise moment. This kind of vibe intensified a lot when he broke up with me. I would feel some of his emotions very strongly, so strongly, in fact, that sometimes the sheer intensity would leave me shaking for hours afterwards. When you feel someone else's emotions in this capacity, this is when you cross over to empathing. I do not consider myself an empath, because I do not feel different people's emotions; I only ever received some of Frédérick's. It was extremely unsettling for me, because I never knew when these feelings that were not mine would come and disrupt my day. I sought some advice to at least shield my sleep, so that I didn't have to feel worried about my dreams being invaded. It was not a fool-proof system, but it helped a lot. It took years for these stray vibes to subside.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">Amin didn't react too much when I told him the whole of this history. I therefore couldn't gauge too much what he thought. He seemed to be searching for the meaning of exchanging energy or vibes with me. I wished I had a clear answer for him. It is the very question that had been continuously coming back to my mind. The most I could say was that it made me feel that we had met for a reason. What we decided after that was entirely up to us. Our meeting, however, seemed significant and doubtless, I imagined, we were supposed to learn something important from one another. I said something similar as we parted ways that day: that I knew I liked him, but just not how much yet. I didn't know whether these vibes were indicating we were supposed to meet and be good friends, or whether it meant that we were supposed to date. That was a decision I was unsure of. </span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia;">As you can imagine, such discussions were fairly lengthy and I ended up staying longer than I had hoped. As I mentioned I should head home, Amin surprised me with a birthday present. It was my first and only early birthday present. It was a book entitled <u>Empire of the Mind, A History of Iran</u>. It was just what I needed, because I really knew nothing about Iran and was interested to learn so that I could understand Amin better. I was delighted because it was so very thoughtful of him. It was the nicest early birthday present I had received in a very long time. </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2290387868157686268.post-26694335703732400242013-01-01T22:09:00.000-05:002013-01-05T22:03:33.195-05:00Busted<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hopeful 7 Hopeless 3</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When Patrick e-mailed me the second week of October, like I said, he wrote that we should "get back to each other" about details for a second date. It was really the postscript of that e-mail that stuck with me. He said, "P.S. Je suis resté très surpris quand je suis tombé par hasard sur ton blogue !!" He just dropped a bomb on me!</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was totally busted! One of the nine had found my blog. Thomas and Amin knew about the blog, but they discovered this because I told them and because I was comfortable telling them. Besides, Amin did not read my blog and Thomas only had some vague curiosity about it. Patrick on the other hand had found it himself. I had not had the chance to explain anything to him. "What must he think of me!" I wondered. It was not possible to tell, since all he wrote was that he had found my blog "by chance".</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia;">I knew that when I put this blog online, this was a distinct possibility. So when I chose to post, I chose to assume the consequences of having this content online, consequences such as Plenty of Fish guys reading it. I just had not really expected it to happen. That is why I was shocked when it did. I was especially surprised that Patrick should say that he found it "by chance". That did not seem right to me. I had checked myself to see how easy it was to Google my blog. It was not that easy when I tried it. He had also mentioned to me during our first date that if you put your real name on your Plenty of Fish profile, people can Google you. That made it sound like he was accustomed to Googling himself. I Googled my pseudonym and was pleased to find that there was an actress and also a singer by that name. That added strength to my case that it was highly unlikely for any of the Plenty of Fish guys to find my blog. So in my mind, Patrick had to have been Googling and trying pretty hard to find it.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia;">I was having an aneurism. I was not only shocked, but also flipped out. I was chatting with Thomas that evening and had already been agitated before finding this e-mail. The conversation file, in fact, was later titled "On avoiding aneurisms". "Aneurism" was the word that had come to mind that evening, when I was confiding in Thomas about something that was worrying me. Directly related to what was worrying me was the matter of my feeling pressure from being the only candidate for him and Amin. I may have had a few choices from Plenty of Fish, but both Amin and Thomas were not considering anyone but me. I knew I could only choose them if they were right for me, but it was not the same as with the others, who also had other options. I felt this was more delicate and that the chance of my hurting Amin or Thomas was greater under the circumstances. As they both knew, because of Kyle, I was terrified of that. For whatever reason, the pressure was really getting to me that day and I was having a meltdown. Thomas was being a good and sympathetic listener as usual and was helping calm me down. It was also memorable because that is officially the day that he removed himself from my list. He told me to stop thinking in terms of potential. He told me that he was comfortable getting to know me better, but that it was not a good time in his life to be dating anyone. He seemed to think that this was sufficiently clear based on one or two previous conversations, but that is when it crystallized for me. Up until that point, Thomas was a front-runner on my list. So taking a step back felt a bit strange, but it was also a huge relief for me that evening.</span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia;">Understandably I was already in a tumultuous emotional state that evening when Patrick's e-mail came in. Thomas had been helpful to make me feel calmer, but that pushed me back over the edge. Since we had agreed to talk about "lighter" things in order to feel better, I did not tell him until later about the e-mail. I simply said that I was having a secondary aneurism, but that I was trying not to think about it. That was true: I tried to put the e-mail out of my mind. After all, it was not something that I could solve that night. I would need to sleep on it, to be sure. The earliest I could possibly reply was the next day. I stayed up for awhile longer chatting and finally, when I felt calm enough, I went to bed. </span></em>Elise Caronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039602299667399758noreply@blogger.com0