The Vine: April 27, 2004
Dear Sars,
There’s a relationship
issue I’ve been struggling with for awhile that I’d love to hear your
opinion on. It’s a little bit convoluted (what relationship issue isn’t, I
suppose), but here goes.
I’ve been in an (almost) two-year relationship with a guy I love. Let me say
that I am 23 years old and this is my first serious relationship, so I don’t
have a context for it, but I feel that he and I have something special. He’s
very attentive, is physically and verbally affectionate, trustworthy, and a
caring, artistic, intelligent person — in short, a catch. We’ve spent a lot
of time together and have no problems getting along on a daily basis, aside
from the occasional argument. He likes my family and friends, and from what
I know of his family and friends (I’ve spent less time with him than he has
with my family, for reasons that will be apparent in a second), I like them
as well.
So, you’re probably wondering what my problem is. Well, he is English and
I’m American. We met while we were both spending time abroad and dated while
living in the same country for about three and a half months (we had known each other
for about two months when we got together). I had assumed that when we
headed home, we’d break up — which made me sad because I had fallen in love
with him at that point — but he disagreed and said he’d be up for the
long-distance thing, so I decided to try it.
It’s worked with minor glitches ever since, probably because he was still
finishing his last year at university and was able to come and see me (I
have a 9-5 job with little paid vacation) for three and four week stretches
every three months or so. Now, however, he’s graduated and is job-hunting,
so this current visit will most likely be his last extended one. We have
briefly discussed marriage, but I think it’s something neither of us is
exactly ready for. He has considered trying to get a job in the U.S., but
hasn’t really taken many steps to make that happen (to be fair, he only
graduated two months ago). I am reluctant to move to the U.K. as I have a
job in my field right now that I really enjoy, but I would be open to it in
the future. If we lived in the same country, I probably wouldn’t even THINK
about breaking up with him, but given our extremely long-distance situation,
do you think I’m holding on to something that’s never going to work?
It seems stupid to break up with someone who seems (besides the distance) so
perfect for me, but I am considering telling him that if we’re not going to
be in the same place any time soon, it has to be over. He doesn’t seem to
have considered the possibility of a breakup — though he doesn’t talk much
about marriage, he does talk about the future and always seems to assume
we’ll be together. Still, the cost of phone bills and plane tickets is
stretching both of our resources. I really don’t know what to do. I don’t
believe in one soul mate, but I do think that finding someone you love and
like and respect enough to possibly spend the rest of your life with isn’t
an everyday occurrence. (Not to mention someone who’s faithful while at
university and during separations of over three months — he really is a great
guy.) What’s your opinion on my situation? Am I over-valuing things because
it’s my first real relationship? Should we take a break? Give it more time?
Break up?
Thanks in advance.
American Woman
Dear Stay Away From Meeeee-ee,
Tell him what you just told me — that if the two of you aren’t going to live in the same time zone within a certain time frame, you can’t take it anymore — but try not to deliver it as an ultimatum. Use it as a springboard for discussion — how does he feel about the distance, all the travel, all the expense, seldom getting to see you? Where does he see the relationship going long-term? What is he willing to do to close the gap?
You’ll need to spend some time thinking about how you’d answer these questions, too; I think you want me to tell you that there’s an easy compromise that suits both sides, but there isn’t. The fact is that, if you can’t deal with the ocean between you anymore, either you have to break up or one of you has to suck it up and move. And if neither of you is willing to do that, well, there you go.
Start talking about these things with him. Speak frankly about how you feel, about what you want, about what you’re willing to do to keep the relationship going. Don’t feel like you have to reach a decision or a consensus in a week or anything; just start brainstorming. Yes, it’s possible that it’s more trouble than it’s worth, but a lot of times, the things most worth doing are the hardest to pull off. Put your heads together and see what you come up with.
Dear Sars the Wise and All-Powerful,
Here’s the quandary: I went there. I went there and never should have gone there, and now I need a map to get back. Short version: I work with a great guy, let’s call him “D,” and we’ve gotten to be tremendous friends over the last year or so. We confide in each other, email back and forth a dozen times a day, we hang out and joke and make fun of people, and we occasionally do the third-grade-flirty why-no-I-can’t-imagine-anyone-being-attracted-to-you-you’re such-a-freakin’-dork thing, followed up by compliments shrouded in sarcasm.
And after much denial, I admitted to myself that I’m VERY attracted to him, and I care about him beyond just being friends. And for some stupid-ass reason, I decided he should know. Today.
Oh, and to add to the fun, we’re both in other long-term relationships, and we’re each pretty happy in them. And quite frankly, even if I didn’t work with D (thankfully, not FOR him, although he’s higher ranking than I) and we were both uncommitted, I wouldn’t see us getting together for more than a short-term kind of thing…you know, the first three months would rock, and then we’d probably agree to bail and just be friends.
But I digress.
So I told him that I felt like I was getting too attached to him, and that I didn’t know if that meant we needed to back off a bit or what. After his surprise wore off, we went through different scenarios — including “why yes, it would probably be wise to scale back and focus on our work relationship” and “you don’t have a rabbit and a large stockpot or anything, do you?” and “what the fuck, you mean we’d stop hanging out?” and “but you’re funny and sweet and extremely attractive and cool and smart and I can’t…just…dammit, where’s your candy stash?” — we settled on “we never had this conversation.”
My questions: 1) Why did I feel compelled to instigate this, knowing that even if he’d said “oh wow, and I thought it was just me” that it wasn’t going to lead to anything; 2) what does this say about the strength or weakness of my current relationship, aside from the fact that the thing with D is easy and fun and sometimes long-term relationships aren’t, hence part of the attraction, and 3) what the hell do I do now? Because while I’m pretty sure we can go back to where we were as buddies, I can’t be totally sure he’s comfortable with that, or if that’s even a wise thing to do. I can handle him joking about how irresistible he is and the need to control myself, but I’d have a pretty hard time with thinking/knowing that he’s sitting there wondering if I’m over it yet. Obviously I have no problem being candid with him, but at this point, I think I might get “sure, we’re fine, nothing’s changed” when we’re really not. What are the chances of just…going back?
Sign me —
Amazing Connection, Pointless Journey
Dear Pointless,
I think you instigated it because you wanted attention, or to create drama — keeping it to yourself didn’t feel satisfying to you for some reason. You had to tell the truth, and given that no real good came of having unburdened yourself (which you pretty much could have predicted), it seems like you did it more so that you could think of yourself as a truthful person than because you actually considered the consequences of telling the truth. It doesn’t necessarily say anything about your current relationship, except to indicate a certain minor lack of discretion that you should probably make a note of — that, and the fact that honesty is not always the best policy, especially in cases like this where no real good comes of having unburdened yourself.
That sounds harsh, written out like that, but really, this is a minor self-absorption malfunction of the kind we all suffer from time to time, and it doesn’t necessarily say anything about your current relationship — that’s the drama talking again, so my advice to you is to stop making a federal case out of it and do what you should have done in the first place: keep your mouth shut. To do otherwise will only inflame the situation and create an even larger and more needless flap, so keep still and let it pass in its own time, which, if you don’t draw any more attention to it or yourself, it eventually will.
Dear Sars,
My question for you is neither grammar- nor relationship-based. In fact, it is based in the far more general arena of writing in general.
I graduated from college last May with a degree in sociology (which might as well be printed on toilet paper, the good it does me) and a minor in writing. My greatest aspiration is to be a writer. I love to write and feel that it is not only what I am best at doing, but what I am happiest doing. It’s all I really want to do and is, at the risk of being trite, my dream.
The glitch here is that I am utterly unsure of how to go about achieving this dream. I just don’t know where to start. Do I start by submitting essays or short stories to journals? If so, how do I find said journals? Do I go through the internet? Do I start by doing something else entirely?
I realize that this, like most things in life, probably lies on several paths and that there are different ways to go about it. I just don’t know what they are and have no one in particular to ask. Thus I ask you, someone who has managed to get herself published and is managing to write, by God!
I understand to expect rejection, and I understand that nothing is easy. I also understand that nothing is quick. Now that you know what I don’t know and what I do understand (or something), can you help? Any advice, direction, or even smart-arse comments would be mighty appreciated.
Thanks,
Waiting for my Pulitzer
Dear That’s One Thing That Isn’t Going To Work,
Well, here’s what you don’t do. You don’t wait for the world to beat a path to your door, publishing contract in hand. Won’t happen.
Get a skill that’s going to let you work no matter how the writing’s going. Type fast, snake drains, sling beers, whatever. Know you can support yourself without having to eat the rejection letters.
Once you’ve got the whole food-and-shelter gig covered, start submitting. I don’t really know what kind of writing you do, but if it’s poetry or fiction, you’ve just got to bang the stuff out and send it to publications. Do your research first, obviously, and don’t be sending fiction to Scientific American, but grab a copy of Writer’s Market, see what’s out there, read a whole passel of journals to see which ones do what you like, and get your stuff out there.
If you’d like to write for a magazine, work your contacts. See if anyone’s in need of freelancers; apply for editorial assistant positions (you won’t do much writing at first, but it’s a good bird’s-eye view for what goes on).
But mostly you just have to do the work. It’s not really about churning out a set number of pages every day, or sticking to a rigid schedule, although that helps a lot of people, especially those who have “real” jobs (I for one have a daily to-do list, and the writing goes on it so that it gets done). It’s about sitting in the middle of life, seeing random trash in the gutter, hearing snippets of conversation on the train, watching two old men play pool, and seeing the stories leading up to these things and stretching away from them, and wanting to tell those stories. If you already do that, just tell the stories and try as hard as you can to get people to hear them. It takes a while, but if telling the story in and of itself is enough for you, you’ll get there one way or the other. Just keep hacking away at it.
Dear Sars,
Two friends and I are in the middle of a bit of a dispute. I say that
first base is traditionally where the weakest infielder is stuck. They
both say that third basemen are traditionally weaker, and first basemen
stronger. Who’s right?
Thanks,
But I’m CERTAIN it’s first base!
Dear Right You Are,
When a manager wants to rest his catcher’s knees, but still wants his catcher’s bat in the lineup, where does he park him? First, not third. Almost anyone on a major-league roster can cover first in a pinch. Third base, you have to go out and take grounders for a few weeks and learn it. First base, you mostly just stand there.
Yeah, you’ve got guys at first who really play it well. Keith Hernandez played a pretty snazzy first base. So did Eddie Murray. So did (does? I don’t know what he’s up to now) Tino Martinez. But Tim McCarver used to get all bent about nobody appreciating Tino’s pick, and I agreed with him, but Tino isn’t in the lineup because he can dig out a low throw. Tino’s in the lineup because he hits. Let me put it another way. Where did Mark McGwire play? Where did Mo Vaughn play? Do you put either of those guys at third? Hell, no. The only thing Mo’s stopping down the line is a surf-and-turf plate.
A third baseman can get a day job if he doesn’t hit that well, as long as his defense is good. A first baseman has to hit, period. I’m not saying that this is the “correct” value calculus for these positions, especially now that 30 homers a year isn’t considered “plus power” anymore, but this is the way it’s been done for decades.
Dear Sars,
I love the advice you give, so perhaps you can help me. I am a bright, liberal 19-year-old girl and I’m loving my first year of college at a place where everyone else is equally bright and liberal. Prior to coming here, I’d only had one real boyfriend, and I felt like I was just starting to really become myself when I graduated high school. When I first came to college, I was sure I didn’t want a boyfriend for a while, as I wanted to really get to know myself and enjoy being alone.
Naturally, that didn’t work out quite the way I’d planned. On my second day here, I met the most amazing guy: funny, intelligent, loves all the bands I do, great cheekbones, et cetera. As we got to know each other, it became readily aparent that we are great for each other. I can be myself around him, I trust him completely, we’re able to talk about anything, and our families dig us as a couple. Well, to everyone’s surprise, we got engaged about six months after we met. We don’t plan on getting married for a few years, but I like publicly declaring that I am committed to him.
Except…there’s these little doubts in my mind that have been growing bigger and bigger each day. I care about him so much, but I can’t help but wonder what I’m missing by being engaged at 19. I’ve always been a very independent person, and this is not what I was planning for my life. I’m scared that I’ll regret never having been single. It’s not that I want to sleep around, just that I want to have a time in my life where the only one I have to worry about is me.
I’ve told him about my doubts, and now he’s worried that I’ll break up with him. He says he wants me to do what I need to do, but I hate the thought of hurting him. I guess my question is whether or not I should “take a break” to be entirely alone, or try to work through my feelings while staying with him. We’re both getting frustrated with my indecision.
Thanks.
Never Expected to be Getting an MRS Degree
Dear Ms.,
Can’t you just get unengaged? Yeah, I know: “‘Just’?” But if you don’t plan to actually tie the knot for a few years anyway, and if the idea of doing so is wigging you out, why not just step back from it for now? Tell him you think it’s too soon — you love him, but you want to take marriage off the table, at least for now, because it’s making you feel a little claustrophobic.
And pursuant to that: “I like publicly declaring that I am committed to him.” What’s going on there? A relationship isn’t really about public declarations. It’s about actually committing, and you’ve said in so many words that you have doubts about doing that for the long haul when you haven’t spent any significant time by yourself.
Talk to him. Tell him what you told me — you don’t want to hurt him, but you’d feel better about calling him your boyfriend for the time being. You don’t have to break up with him just to prove a point; no, you haven’t drunk from the cup of single life, but if you love him, I wouldn’t dump him just to enforce a general principle. On the other hand, it’s early yet, and it’s probably better not to lock yourself into an engagement when you’ve really just started college.
It’s not easy to disengage, so to speak, but better you do it now and try to deal with your relationship on slightly less pressurized terms than to freak out later.
Tags: boys (and girls)
