Over & Out

Its not that I haven't had shit to write about. Quite the contrary, in fact.

I have plenty of shit.
Big shit.
Potentially-relationship-with-M3-jeopardizing shit.

But I absolutely, positively don't want to talk about it.

(Though clearly I'm about to do so anyway.)

M3 said it best last night. (We talk on the phone now, you see. I lifted my pre-existing semi-ban on having voice-on-voice contact once I realized last week that not only do I enjoy actually speaking with him, he even occasionally has something interesting to say. Plus, sometimes he's naked when we're on the phone.)

The more real our relationship gets, the less its something I want to share with the world.

What M3 and I have been doing since January looks indeed from every conceivable angle like a relationship. We haven't spent a Saturday or Sunday apart for weeks. We've both, on multiple occasions, driven 4+ hours roundtrip on a weeknight for the opportunity to spend fewer than 10 hours together. He's met people in my life who are important to me. And likewise. We're talking about the future (not **The Future** spelled with caps but like May, June and July) with a degree of certainty that two people wouldn't even bother to superficially muster unless they both felt confident that something real was developing between them. We're content doing domestic crap. He pretends to pay attention (though not terribly well) when I try to bestow upon him the methodology of risotto preparation. And anyone who knows me well would recognize the gravity of the simple fact that I even have an interest to begin with that he be included in the risotto preparation. He jokes about our potential future offspring's facial characteristics, and getting engaged, and meeting my mother. And at this point, I've not only totally lost track of the number of times he's submitted a thinly- or not-at-all veiled comment about me moving to his mid-sized city, I also can't seem to shake the idea out of my mind even though I know that very same mother M3 jokes about meeting would so totally kick my ass three ways from Sunday if she knew I was even entertaining the notion let alone occasionally, non-purposefully and entirely accidentally perusing various websites where jobs in his mid-sized city might occasionally, non-purposefully and accidentally be posted.

(Yep, looks like a relationship alright.)

Trouble is, I know that M3 has doubts.

"What if?" doubts.

And oddly enough, I don't blame him one bit.

What if he had taken some time to get to know himself, to play the field, to figure out what he really wanted after ending his last relationship instead of rushing headlong into a shiny, new one with me?

What if there's something better out there?

What if we took a break and he explored the answers to these questions...and then some? Would the lessons he'd learn be worth taking the chance that I wouldn't be waiting for him when and if his journey of self-discovery ultimately led back to us? Would his path ultimately lead back to us? And is he okay with the possibility that the answer to one or both of those questions could very likely be "no"?

Making an exclusive commitment to another person is hard and its scary and its a hugely enormous risk. Which is probably why its something that neither of us have done for years. Him: 3+. Me: Almost 10.

"It's a leap of faith," he said on Sunday.

(No fucking kidding.)

So, as M3 and I sort our shit out, you won't be hearing from me much. What's on the table is just too significant. Too consequential. And far too terrifying for me to think about one potential outcome in particular, let alone attempt to creatively express my thoughts on the matter in a decidedly public forum, the audience of which includes but (at least on most days) is not limited to M3 himself.

I'm audi.