At a crossroads

So, TJ and I are at a crossroads, it seems; or rather, the ball is in my court. And I'm discovering some truths that I think I'd rather not.

So, first and foremost: the man is in an emotional turmoil of epic proportions. In his own words, he comes with "a pretty big disclaimer." The break-up he went through dealt a really bad blow, and he's wounded. Deeply. Him posting online and subsequently meeting me is his first tip-toe back into the dating pool. Woo-wee, can I pick 'em or what?

He's essentially enshrined himself in armor akin to the great wall of China; he's not fully trusting and not particularly hopeful. And what's more, he has absolutely no plans as far as relationships go... or his life, for that matter. He's literally just living every day, which, according to him, is a new concept. He hadn't really thought that he'd meet anyone, but suddenly here I am, and here we are.

We're not fuck buddies or friends with benefits. But he absolutely cannot be anybody's boyfriend at this point. I think I knew that, but he articulated it just in case. If I want to get off this ride, he said, he wouldn't blame me. He can't tell me where this is going or how long it'll last.

Red flags are blazing and there's a good chunk of my common sense telling me to cut him loose. Why, then, did we talk for nearly 90 minutes? I'm compelled, I think, by his honesty, and his ability to be forthright in such a circumstance. Do I think I can change him? Hmm... I don't think so, no.

I'm on the fence, however, as to whether or not I secretly hope that he wakes up one day and is madly in love with me. Believing that would be foolish, but what then makes me hang around?

Here's the tough truth part: I like him company. I like talking to him. He makes me laugh and I want to kiss him. Those, right now, are my basic truths, and they are things I haven't felt for someone else in a while. They aren't attributes I can't find in other people, but things I haven't found in other people. At least, not recently, and not without a lot of pain. Maybe his inability to allow anyone close in is letting me heal my own wounds. Maybe it teaches me to live in the moment, however uncomfortable, however lush. I don't know the loops ahead, but this feels like incredibly calm waters, if only because I'm not thinking about the end result.

Maybe I just want someone there. Is that wrong? Is that settling? Hip-hop girl power affirmations are running through my head -- 'I can do bad by myself, I can do bad by myself, I can do bad by myself.'

And then there's that one movie, with that one poignant exchange:

#1: "You know that saying, 'I'd rather be with someone for the wrong reasons, than alone for the right?'
#2: "Yes."
#1: "I'd rather be right."

I've always chosen right... always. And where am I? What has it given me? How much comfort have I derived from it? He asked me once, very early on, if I would prefer to be delicious or true; I thought it an odd question, and answered why couldn't I be both?

He's always been true, he told me. He'd love to be delicious, just once, like his one friend who boasts of deflowering a gaggle of sisters (biological) and one sister (religious), while in Calgary for a spell.

I've always been true, too. Never delicious, always true.

Maybe now I'm attempting to tow the line and be both. He finds me delicious and I find his truth the same. It occurs to me that I don't want to fix him -- maybe just make his road out of that emotional hell a little easier, while finding a little clarity about myself.

I'm conflicted on how I should feel about that; one of the few things I learned from last year's carnage, however, was this -- it just is what it is. That's the tack I'm taking; it's not good or bad, it just is what it is.