Lost: Season 30

I thought that the extraordinary events of the last few days deserved their own post, and a second post for today.  I occasionally am hindered by self-conciousness to be bluntly honest in this blog, as I know most readers know me personally.  But then, I think it is this deeply personal openness that many others would struggle to achieve that I do so well.  This splaying open of my heart, my deepest thoughts and feelings...  okay, enough with the dramatic preface.

Over the last few weeks I have kind of, sort of gotten back together with Oz.  First it was undefined, until he decided to tell his mother we are dating.  Dating, I tell you, after he told me he did not have a definition for what we were doing.  Bizarre.  But then, I kind of live in Bizarro World, so I guess I marked this on my mental chalk board (no, really, I do keep tabs on this sort of thing mentally with an image of an actual chalkboard and those five strike marks we are all taught to keep score with in kindergarten) and at an opportune moment (opportune meaning loaded with Benadryal and a few cocktails), asked him why he would tell his mother this without telling me or asking me first.  "Well, don't you want to be dating?" was the deadpan response.  I'm not so sure, whispered a voice in my head. 

There are (several) parts to this conversation clouded in a Benadryl haze, but I distinctly remember telling him, "We are not 20 any more Oz, we are 30.  You're either in or you're out."  At my age, I do not feel like one should have to guess whether one's partner truly wants to be in one's life.  If you're not doing everything to lock me down after a certain point, well, there's a giant red flag waving in my face because damn it, I am the kind of woman who should embolden any man to proclaim his love and affection for me so resolutely and with such certainty to never waiver from it, and desire such from me in return.  Yes, I am that wonderful ladies and gentlemen.  Why?  Because I love fearlessly, deeply, unconditionally.  Among other things.

We ended our evening, which had become a routine one evening per week, as always, with Oz's arms wrapped in an iron vice grip around my entire body as we fell asleep.  This grip has become symbolic in so many ways.  In the beginning of our relationship, it signified the strength of our unity and togetherness.  I craved the security it gave me, that he never wanted to let me go.  I remember nights at home in my own bed, not being able to fall asleep without that comforting, secure hold on me.  It made me feel so small and tiny, to have those big, strong arms wrapped entirely around me.  In the end, that vice grip squeezed the life and love out of my heart.  He had a hold on me that I could barely break out of.

Without going into great detail, let it suffice to say that he lied.  He lied about a seemingly little thing (whether or not he was going to a Halloween party).  I didn't call him out on it.  I just slowly let my affections for him waste until it was small enough to slip out of that vice grip.  I wonder how we started out as we did, both of us so sure we were meant for forever, and ended here, like this?  I saw him a bit over the last few days.  For the second time, he fell asleep when he was supposed to pick me up from the airport.  There were other things.  Like the girly, expensive shampoo that a cheap, manly, black man with 1/16th of an inch of hair would probably not buy (please see picture to the right of the actual, suspicious shampoo and conditioner.  Oh yes I did).  The quietness, the lack of response and conversation.  No more teasing. 

It's not that I haven't been here before.  I certainly have.  I just wonder what makes someone do this.  I wonder what makes someone think I shall be at his beck and call.  He should get the message soon.  I didn't answer a text.  I declined dinner.  I didn't respond wihen he asked if that meant I was not available to hang out.  When I am ready, I shall tell him that this isn't working for me, and it is not what I expect from a dating relationship.  I doubt I shall get any real objections. 

Why is this all so extraordinary?  I don't know.  I guess it isn't.  It just feels like Season 30 of Lost.  Obnoxiously endless and I should know what the outcome is, but I am always left hanging until the finale comes right out of no where.