Cplow Esther,
I’m writing to you because I’ve studied, but I need clarification because I don’t know if everything can be resolved with our GAS vs PAQ or if it’s more serious (or maybe simple).
29 years old, a normal and lucky girl. Normal because I’m neither too tall nor too short, neither nice nor unpleasant, cheerful and cheerful, but also sharp and humorous, I play sports without being fanatical, ambitious but ultimately moderate. Lucky because I have a wonderful family, precious friends, a (tough but) job that I like and my health supports us. Obviously there is a “but” to serenity, otherwise I wouldn’t be here to disturb you.
After 4 years from the only boy I have ever loved and introduced into my family (he left me, creating a void that I recommend to you – but which many of us can understand* – which I survived and, indeed, which became a new stimulus to flourish again) thanks to uncle Tinderon the seventh outing, I met him, with the same name as me.
I always feel relegated to his free time
Nice and simplemountain enthusiast like me, but above all gifted with one rare goodnessdisarming to the point that further words to describe it would be too many. It starts slowly because he needs his time, I’m patient, I get close to love, but then I’m thrown back because I always feel relegated to the scraps of his free timenot reciprocated in the level of engagement (even if he says he is sincerely interested in me – and he probably is but he can’t prove it to me).
He’s a good and good boy who you would immediately introduce to your mother, but it’s a shame that in 10 months of dating you never managed to introduce him to your mother and father because the kilometers that divide his hometown (where I moved for work) and my hometown are 200, too many in his opinion, to do in one day among all his responsibilities.
I’m left with crumbs
Between his passion for amateur football (at age 31), the disabled father (whom I don’t think I’ve ever liked, perhaps due to the fear that I would take his child away from him) who also looks after by virtue of his profession of care, the rest of his family (which I haven’t yet covered too much), his friends (who I started dating and with whom we like each other) and work, responsibilities are many and I’m left with crumbs.
For the rest we are fine
In the spare time that we live there we are wonderful (even if physically a little less because he often falls asleep due to tiredness), when I feel the need I can talk to him, explain my needs and my fears, I apologize for the heaviness, but I make him understand that I would like shared planning and organization.
He doesn’t tell me he loves me
Hearing me say that he loves me, however, is a goal that I cannot reach because perhaps out of impulsiveness, out of courage (my friends say) after the sum of small and continuous discrepancies in our speed of life, I free ourselves by telling him that ours is probably more a friendship relationship and that we stress each other out less by acknowledging it than by insisting on a longed-for love. He doesn’t agree, he questions himself, I know I make him suffer, he asks me for time, but I ask him what for. How long does love mature?
I miss him
I miss his simplicity and goodness, I feel like I took a gamble in letting him go just in the hope of finding more determination and sprint in someone I have yet to meet and who knows if I will ever meet. Or perhaps hoping to trigger a reaction in him that obviously doesn’t suit his respectful character.
I hope every day to find him under my house with a bouquet of flowers, outside the station with a fruit and stracciatella flavored ice cream, I hope to find him GAS again, but I know I lost my PAQ. I fucked up, didn’t I? Damn me, I don’t know how to be patient and settle for mediocrity, instead persisting in thinking that I can still win at Cupid’s SuperEnalotto. I’m waiting for your pearl (she won’t be given to the pigs I promise) because my mother and my friends can’t stand my perennial indecision any longer. And please don’t tell me I don’t deserve a golden boy like that, I couldn’t stand it.
With respect and gratitude,
TO.
Ester Viola’s response
Dear A.
I turn on the fog lights.
I’m patient, I get close to love, but then I’m pushed back because I always feel relegated to the spare parts of his free time, not reciprocated in the level of commitment (even if he says he’s sincerely interested in me – and he probably is but he can’t prove it to me).
What does engagement mean in your area? What does he do? Does he call you and say let’s meet for half an hour a week? Every two weeks? Depends?
When I feel the need, I can talk to him, explain my needs and my fears, I apologize for the heaviness, but I make him understand that I would like shared planning and organization.
Are you someone with a three-year relationship plan? Do you exaggerate with the construction company or does he exaggerate because for ten months it’s always been the same time a week?
Do you need the definition?
Hearing me say that he loves me, however, is a goal that I cannot reach because perhaps out of impulsiveness, out of courage (my friends say) after the sum of small and continuous discrepancies in our speed of life, I free ourselves by telling him that ours is probably more a friendship relationship and that we stress each other out less by acknowledging it than by insisting on a longed-for love. He doesn’t agree, he questions himself, I know I make him suffer, he asks me for time, but I ask him what’s the point. How long does love mature?
So is it friendship? Do you go to the cinema and exhibitions that evening a week? Are you doing a friends with benefits and you don’t admit it? Or did you sit there waiting for I love you? He’s saying yes, we’re more or less together, then let’s see? He doesn’t say anything? Do you just go out and you need the definition?
I miss his simplicity and goodness, I feel like I took a gamble in letting him go just in the hope of finding more determination and sprint in someone I have yet to meet and who knows if I will ever meet. Or perhaps hoping to trigger a reaction in him that obviously doesn’t suit his respectful character.
Ut above: do you see each other little and without conviction? Do you see each other a lot, do you love each other and all you need to do is tell each other?
We need to simplify. Always simplify. The parties are still the same two, we have already named them:
1) The Unicornists. Those who love is only love and the most perfect fusion of souls. For less than everything it’s not worth it. Nice claim, they observe from the opposition (what do you want from us if you can’t find anyone?).
2) The Accountants. They have very modest ambitions: “Let’s see if among those who like me I like someone.” The opposing side considers it poverty. (What do you want from us if you get into dirty relationships?)
Love is unpredictable
In short, there are no experts on the subject, there is a generic know-how, which mostly comes from the shoulder joints taken. But you can’t rely too much on that either: it’s love, experience in the field is intermittent and doesn’t survive the presence of feeling, the Frenchman said.
Usually, when one asks oneself “why did I do this? And now? ”, She already knows but she doesn’t want to know too much.
Perhaps with hopes you have to be a little more preciseA. It’s all there.
“He hoped for much, but without knowing what. Expecting much, too much from life, but without even knowing how to define anything precisely” Dostoevsky described certain empty circles well. We are doing a lot of literature perhaps because you decided everything and the alternative is really too easy: either you call back and whatever goes, or you don’t think about it anymore.
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