Breakdown

I had a bit of a breakdown the other night. 

I have been talking to a few men online and have met one of them in person (so far) and I just became completely overwhelmed.

There are two men that I am extremely interested in, one from another city and one much closer to home.  I've spoken to them on the phone or via FaceTime and I am excited to meet them in person, especially the one close to home. 

I've been messaging another man who is also very nice, and we have a lot in common, but we haven't met or spoken on the phone yet so I'm holding out a bit.

I've gone on a few dates with one man who is also very nice, but he reminds me too much of my college boyfriend so I'm not sure we are meant for many more dates.  But he's nice.

I've been casually chatting with a few others as well, but just casually. 

All of this manly attention has been excellent for my psyche, adding a spring to my step and random giggles throughout the day.

But it really hit me the other night - what am I doing?

These men couldn't possibly want me!  They haven't seen me, they don't really know what they're getting into.

And yet, most of them have indicated that they do.  Want me.  Seriously, want me. 

One of the men that I am casually conversing with (at least to me) has stated that he's already "falling in love with me."  Dude.  We haven't met yet. 

The one that I like that I am messaging back and forth with has also said that he wants to meet, and hopes that when we do we will commit to making it work between us.  Dude.  We. Haven't. Met. Yet.

The man from another city has also asked that I not "see" other people until we meet, hoping that when we do we will decide to be together and "that'll be it."  Seriously.  Dude. 

In a way I would like to believe that these men mean what they say, that they really do want me, like me, could fall for me.  A part of me needs to believe it, needs to think that I could be loved. 

But I haven't been loved in my life, not really.  I've been in love, and men have liked me a whole lot, but I have never really been loved.  I don't know what it's like to know, really know, that someone loves me.  That I am his, and he is mine.  I don't know how to even wrap my mind around what that could feel like. 

The majority of me thinks that these men must just be desperate and lonely.  Or that they are just bullshitting.  Or they think that these are the kinds of things that women want to hear.  These men couldn't possibly want me, not really.  Or if they do want me, even a little, then they will balk when they see me in person and it will all fall apart. 

But then again, the man that I've met has said these things to me as well.  He already talks of us as "seeing each other" and being together.  He has told me that he has refused dates with other women due to me.  He tells me that I'm hot.  That I'm awesome.  He tells me that he "loves almost everything about me."  That I'm special and that he's so happy we met.

He has seen me in person and still says these things.

He holds my hand and kisses me in public.  Even my ex never did that, which always made me feel that he was ashamed of me somehow.  This nice man, though, holds my hand.  He kisses me whenever he can.  What if he means it?

I want to believe. 

I brought up my weight to the man I like, the one I've been messaging with.  I told him that I am plus sized, that I'm working on it but this is the reality right now.  I told him that if this is a deal breaker for him I would understand, but I would be disappointed. 

He replied, "Awwww, why would that be a deal breaker? I can see that you are plus sized from your pictures, I already know.  Know this, I love you just the way you are. I want a pretty woman outside and much more on the inside." I really want to believe him, believe that he means what he says.  But what if he's just lonely?

The only man not saying these things to me is the one that I talk to via FaceTime.  He has seen me, at least on the small screen, and he wants to meet and hang out in person.  And, of course, he is the one that I am the most attracted to, the one I talk to with ease, who excites my intellect.  The one who is somewhat aloof.  The one trying to get me to come to him.  But what if he's really one of "those guys?"  What if he's really an ass?

But I keep talking to these men.  I keep chatting, keep messaging.  What am I doing?

I sat in my living room talking this through with my roommate, crying and crying. 

What if it's all lies?  What if it's all bullshit?  What if?  What if?  What if?

My roommate said all the right things in all the right ways, but I just kept going off the rails.

What if my man from out of town has created a new profile and one of the men I'm chatting with is really him in disguise?

"That's a different world from the one we're living in, Katy," said my roommate with a sly smile. 

He was right, but I was overwhelmed and losing it. 

"Katy, you are meant to be loved. You deserve to be loved.  You will be loved."  I love my roommate. His words sent me into deeper sobs, because I really want to believe him but I'm terrified to believe him.

I'm so afraid to put myself in a position, by believing one of these men, to have my heart broken again. 

But I'm more afraid not to. 

I want to know what it's like to be loved.  Really loved.  To be his. 

The confidence I've regained recently from talking to these men, flirting with these men, being kissed, has been so wonderful.  It has invaded my daily life and people are noticing, which is ... interesting. 

Then I go to the really bad place where I think that these men may really mean what they say, but that they will run for the hills when they actually see me.  That the plus size they are comfortable with is less plus than my plus.  That they will see me and realize that they just can't.

Or worse, that they are fine with my wrecked body, but it's me that they can't deal with once we meet in person. 

Or worse yet, that they still want me, no matter my body, no matter how plus is the plus of my plus.  What if all that they have said is true and now it's up to me?  What if I can't let myself be loved out of habit?  What if, after all of this, what if what it comes down to is that I am unlovable?

I told you... off the rails.

Toward the end of my crying at my roommate I started to feel guilty.  What if these men are true, that they mean what they say, and they are not really the men for me?  Am I keeping them from their true match just because I enjoy the attention?  Am I a horrible person for wanting to keep chatting with them, seeing them, knowing it probably won't lead anywhere?

I finally calmed down, dried my tears, regained my sanity.

I woke the next day contemplative and quiet.  I hadn't really spoken to any of the men the day of my breakdown, and I missed a few of them, and I was a little sad.  Also a little convinced that they had all changed their minds, but that was mostly because I had gone a little crazy the night before. 

That morning, however, I heard from my man from out of town. First thing in the morning.  We had a nice little text chat. 

I also heard from the messaging man that I like first thing in the morning.  Also throughout the day and into the night. 

While chatting with him one of the casual chatting men contacted me. 

Then I got a call from the man that kisses me.  While I was messaging with the man that I like. 

Ten minutes after that call ended the man that I really like called me via FaceTime.

My evening ended after that call with two very sweet good-night-sleep-tight-dream-good-dreams messages from these other men. 

They had all reached out to me on the same day, most of them within an hour and a half of each other.

Who am I?

I sent a text to my best friend this morning saying, "I think I'm a little in over my head with this whole dating thing."

She talked me through it and vetoed a few of the men on principle. 

My roommate says, "It's called dating - you get to know each other and figure out if you work.  And you're allowed to date more than one person at a time!"

My best friend says, "Straight, non-actor boys like naked women, all naked women, they DO NOT CARE about the dumb things we obsess over... You are Katy-fing-Grenfell!"

I really, really want to believe them.  I also want to believe these men.  And I want to stop being afraid, stop obsessing over the fact that I'm fat and that these men may not want me because of it. 

I need to try to remember that I am Katy-fing-Grenfell! 

Dammit.

And I need to remember to be brave. 

I am a little impressed with myself, though, that it has taken this long to have a full-on breakdown.  I expected myself to have one a lot sooner than this.

And I will remember to breathe.  Breathe.  Freakin' breathe, dammit!!!!

See, I had a bit of a breakdown the other night...