The Great-on-Paper Guy

So I spent quite some time writing up a blog entry about how the wedding went, how much fun we had, that we got closer physically (nothing sexual of course because Shy Boy’s a gentleman). But I’m not gonna lie. I’ve decided not to post it. There’s a good reason behind it that has nothing to do with privacy. Since the wedding occurred two weeks ago, I’ve been to his apartment for the first time. I’ve seen him happy and I’ve seen him bored. I’ve been to NYC with him. All the while, love has grown deeper for him and kept lukewarm for me. Every time I think love might start to simmer in me, it fizzles away again. When I read a string of e-mails between one of my friends and me during the past two to three weeks, there is an interesting rise and fall in emotions. Immediately after the wedding, I was still giddy and almost felt myself falling for Shy Boy. Last week, I could go either way but I was still leaning more toward liking him. Over the past few days, I’ve gone completely neutral.  I’ve even wrote a follow-up blog post to the wedding discussing my disdain for him, but it's not worth posting. Instead, I'm writing this post now. Some days I think he’s a great guy, other days I’m perfectly happy without him. Shy Boy is The Great-on-Paper Guy. Why is he great-on-paper but not in real life? I still can’t quite figure it out myself. He’s chivalrous, a gentleman, kind, thoughtful, worships me. But he’s old fashioned, like everything is to me on the East Coast. He’s willing to come to my beloved city in the West, but I don’t think he’d like it. He looks and acts much older than his age. He’s shy, sensitive, and somewhat timid. He’s so gentle it’s irritating. I don’t want to be the one in the relationship with the balls or testosterone! How is it possible that he treats me like a lady and can protect me on the streets of New York while all the while being so shy and sensitive?  There’s something, something I can’t describe and can’t pinpoint that’s missing. And that thing that’s missing is the great wall that keeps me from falling in love with him. He tells me he’ll do whatever makes me happy. He says all he wants is to be loved and have someone love him. But deep down I know he wants a serious relationship. At the same time, I can't bring myself to tell him, to break his heart, that I don't think I'm ever going to love him. Then again, I should keep in mind we haven’t even known each other for that long. In all actuality, it’s only been three months.

In true parent-child fashion, I want to blame our pushy Jewish mothers who think we belong together just because we’re of “a certain age” and have not found someone yet, as the reason why I can’t love him. For crying out loud, we’re not that old and even if we were, we have to find our own way to be happy. Maybe I just don’t want to get married and have children. Maybe the more society forces it on me and the deeper in love he tells me he is; the more I want to run away from him. Then I get to thinking of those lonely nights in my beloved state back West. The nights I cried because I didn’t have a boyfriend. The nights I prayed for a boyfriend to no avail. Now, I find myself thinking that I can do better than him. I don’t know how, it’s probably an immature naïve thing to even be thinking of. My expectations are probably far too high. I’m looking for bigger, better, best. Maybe I love a state out West more than I could ever love him, even if he did come out there to be with me. All I know is, I like him as a boyfriend and I wish people would leave it at that, including him.