Jigsaw Puzzles

“It was about as effective as repeatedly running into a brick wall to try and create a door.” -Jigsaw

Let's get something straight. Not all my past boyfriends have been a complete waste of my time. Take Jigsaw for example. While we did have our differences, he was, for all intents and purposes, a very good man, and worth a little recognition. So here it is, an article I meant to post a few months back, but completely forgot I had:

I remember one morning during my relationship with Jigsaw when I called him a bad boyfriend. He might have been displaying poor boyfriend qualities at the time, but calling him a bad boyfriend was a little dramatic. I was just being an emotional basketcase because we were talking about money again. Or, rather, I was borrowing money from him. Again.

I had plans to go out with my coworkers the next night and, being the kind man that he is, he offered to let me borrow his money so I wouldn’t have to stop at the ATM on my way to work in the morning. I didn’t even need the money, he was just making my life easier. So it could have been simple: I could have taken the money, kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ll pay you back.” But instead I stood in the bedroom doorframe and bit my lip for a moment, trying to fight back the tears. I didn’t like talking about money, mainly because I was bad with it and found my terrible habits incredibly embarrassing. I’ve gotten much better over the years, but I've had to admit too many times to my parents that my credit card had reached the max limit. Of course I’d never offer this information freely, but they know I’m bad with money, so they’re inclined to check in on me every once in a while and ask what my bank account looks like.

I knew that if I didn’t get it together they were going to let me sink, and it would only be right. Honestly, I think I’m on the right path. Thankfully, my new job and this blog are keeping me afloat, because I’ve got plans, and I’d very much like to be able to afford to travel. It’s a travel blog, after all. Plus, I'm not only making money, but I'm learning things at Wells Fargo. For instance... did you know that keeping a balance on your credit card of more than 30% of your available funds (so if you have a $1,000 limit, we're talking $300), your credit score is negatively affected?

You're welcome.

At any rate, that afternoon Jigsaw was sitting on the bed, listening to me cry, trying to coax and calm me from afar. After three minutes of stifled sobbing and awkward buzzing around (I don’t know where it’s appropriate to stand when I’m in distress), I said to him, “Why aren’t you holding me? Get over here! You are such a bad boyfriend!” It was meant to be a joke, I meant to laugh when I said it because it’s so obviously not true. But it didn’t come out as intended; it sounded like I actually might have meant it! I said this to the man who waited patiently for a year and a half to date me; to the man who spread cream cheese on my bagel with the finesse of Duff Goldman frosting a cake because I’m incredibly picky; to the man who welcomed me into his life, his family, his home; to the man who would buy me video games because I mentioned in passing that I’d like to play them sometime. Do you see what I’m trying to say here? Jigsaw was anything but a bad boyfriend. He needed a little direction (of the "get over here and hold me" variety), but he was as good to me as he could have been.

And I remember back when I started dating Jigsaw, a friend of mine told me that I was overdue for some awesome. When I called things off with the Woman (the boyfriend before Jigsaw), my friend said to me, “Your next boyfriend is going to be amazing.” I asked how she figured that. She responded, “Think about your last couple boyfriends. There’s no way your next boyfriend is going to be a douche, too. Karma owes you.”

How I Like My Porridge

In lieu of a quote, I have a link, because sometimes it's just much easier for you to see it: 
Castle: How do you know when you're in love?

Two and a half months ago, I was having a lunch date with the Professor, my neighbor across the street. He is a retired professor, and I the original intent of the luncheon was to discuss my potential plans to attend graduate school at some point. After about ten minutes of chit-chat, he said to me, "You're not an academic, Kelly." That was as far as that conversation needed to go. Now, I don't just take the Professor's advice without questioning it, but at this point in my life he is right. I have no desire to go back to school, nor do I have the funds. Maybe someday in the future, but not right now.

That covered 15 minutes of our 3 hour chat.

We moved on to Friday (the nickname I gave my ex mentioned in the last post), who, at the time, I had only been on two dates with. I told the Professor that for our second date I had cooked Friday dinner. The Professor looked at me, smiled his sweet, all-knowing smile, and said, "Don't be so nice."

I was absolutely confounded. I had no effing idea what he meant by, "Don't be so nice."

I asked sarcastically, "Meaning what? You want me to save my niceties for marriage?" But he didn't elaborate. Frustratingly, he left it at that, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that I've thought about it once per day since he dropped those words on the table.

Guess what folks? I figured it out!

Instead of just telling you, I'm going to launch annoyingly into another story that will help you appreciate the weight of my lessons. Or something.

The day it ended with Friday was the day I met my new addiction, the Giant. (He's 6'8"; do I really need to explain the nickname?) For some people that would be too soon, but I am what my father calls a serial lover. I'm rarely ever single, which means that most of the time I end up with men who aren't worth my time and money. At any rate, I never was very attached to Friday, which should be evident in my three attempts to break up with him within a two-month time span.

I never should have dated him, because I knew that relationship wasn't going anywhere, but I talked about him to my friends anyway. This action unfortunately sullies everyone's outlook on what has the potential to be an amazing relationship. Meaning, in the past three weeks, when I tell my closest friends about the Giant they say, "This is great. I am happy for you. But...." The "but" is often followed by, "take it slow."

For once, I'm taking everyone's advice and doing just that.

We have been seeing each other for three weeks, and we are making sure that the other is worth our efforts. It's a bit of drive between his house and mine, and we've both been burned pretty badly in the past. In light of this, we're not labeling ourselves, making plans beyond a few days out, or expecting anything of each other until we're certain that the relationship is worth the time, the gas money, and all the work that accompanies a happy, healthy relationship. In the Professor's words, we are "not being so nice."

And I will be honest: I am very happy. For the past three weeks I have woken up smiling, spent the days feeling amazing, and fallen asleep excited to find what tomorrow will bring.

In an attempt to explain to him exactly what this means to me, I tried to think of the last time I felt this way. I thought about all my past serious relationships and how they made me feel. Skipping Friday, I thought back to an 11-month, long distance relationship. I cared much more deeply for him than he for me, but I was never truly able to invest every ounce of my available excitement because I was too focused on the distance between us. Because I was so torn between my emotions, it became more of an obsession than a love. The relationship before that was Freckled, and he was much more in love with me than I ever was with him.

I've been on both sides of the spectrum, too hot and too cold. But the Giant is just right. I thought back, beyond all my relationships, trying to find a similar feeling, and I was finally able to pinpoint the last time I felt this way: seven years ago in high school. Until now, I was beginning to wonder if I would ever find another man that would make my stomach flip when we kiss. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever find another man whose existence turns my crabby ass into a morning person. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever find another man who makes me feel beautiful with a single "wow."

Plus, all the songs are starting to make sense. I've got a good feeling about this one, so keep your fingers crossed for me.