One thing that I realize is that I wait. It's hard to explain; you might not be able to see it, but I know what it feels like inside.

Waiting.

What am I waiting for? I project it all onto Frank. I have this fantasy that the goal is for us to live together. I don't know why. I mean, part of it just makes sense, that I would want to see someone every day, curl up with them at night, share my life with them. But there's another part of it that feels kind of compulsive and young. Like that's what I will need to make me feel safe.

You know those women who think marriage is IT? Like they are planning for their wedding day from the time they are twelve, and every man they meet, they put that template over him? They are so hyped on getting married, i.e., the actual day, that they don't think that marriage is a commitment with ups and downs, it has its struggles, and its responsibilities? You know the kind I'm talking about. The kind of women, like my friend Kelly, who is not even in a very good relationship, but who believes if she just gets that man to walk down the aisle, the love fairy will come and sprinkle magic wedding dust on them and all their problems will be fixed. This compulsion also shows up in women who want babies to dress up and show off, but don't stop to consider that one day that baby will be 13 and calling her a bitch and stealing cigarettes out of her purse.

Anyway, I'm kind of this way about moving in together. Somehow, in some part of my brain, this has become a Goal. Let's go visit that part of my brain now. Here, have a seat. Would you like a cold drink? I'll put everything up on the screen for you.

Well, okay, so the Goal is to get from Here (laser pointer directs your attention to "single, living alone") to Here... (laser pointer indicates "cohabitating".) What will change, you ask? I think it's the safety thing. Financially safe, because Frank makes good money. Emotionally safe, because then I'll know I really "have" him. (Yes, we all know that living with someone, or even marrying them, doesn't necessarily stop them from cheating).

Even here at work, I wait. I feel like my day revolves around Frank's day. He has a much busier schedule than me, and usually his calls are the high point. (Honestly, people, I think I'd have more fun working in an actual morgue).

I was so worried. I told my therapist a few months ago, that I hate that I am obsessed with every little thing, every little up and down in our relationship. And with him, particularly. She said, "When you find something you really love to do, you will find you won't need to focus on those things quite as much."

They call it projection. In my head, "Frank, do something. Frank, embrace me. Frank, realize how wonderful I am and that you should drink in my fabulousness every day."

Reversed: "Duck, do something. Duck, embrace yourself. Duck, realize how wonderful you are and that you should drink in your own fabulousness every day."

I don't do anything. I wait. I get occasional glimpses of the freedom I could have. What if I took on my own financial safety issues? I mean, I've always planned on making money, but what if I really envisioned making so much money that I would always know I could take care of myself? Completely. Well, that's a big one. What if I had the goal of getting such a nice living space that it was "mine" and not necessarily "ours".

I think my mind revolves around the idea that I will never be able to really "do it" successfully by myself. Oh, I'll be all right, but really being "complete" (not the Jerry Macguire kind) and "successful"-- my definition of successful doesn't necessarily mean being a millionaire, but being in a place where I'm not living paycheck to paycheck, and able to pursue things I enjoy-- doesn't come into my fantasies unless there's someone else attached to it.

Now I think I've found something I want to do. Only I don't know how I would work it out with this job. One of the trainings is coming up pretty soon, and I don't have any time to take off. I spoke to Frank and said, "Well, I could ask for the time off, and if they say no, I could go anyway. The problem is the timing... finding another job before or after I go. The two-week notice plus the time for the trainings makes it difficult." Frank replied, "Oh that's too crazy. You can't leave your job." I just looked at him. I couldn't believe he was serious. What it boils down to, I tried to explain, is sacrificing a passion (the thing I am finally interested in) for this job (the thing which I'm not very interested in at all, obviously). If I didn't do it this year, I'd have to wait a whole year and a half before the trainings took place again.

This is the essence of my waiting. Failure to take risks.

He's got a busy life. He doesn't understand. I'm tired of this part of my life hingeing on his. I want my OWN something to do during the day. I want my own passion to take up my time, so that maybe I am so involved and loving what I am doing, that maybe I will look up at the clock and be amazed at how the time has flown by. And yes, maybe I will find the time to give him a call and say hi.

If not, till then, I'm just waiting for him to live out what I want for myself. Waiting for the world to embrace me when I should be embracing myself. Waiting for someone to drink me when I should be drinking up life. Waiting for someone to blow breath into my lungs, when all I have to do is inhale.

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