Gentleman Jack, you make relationship talks flow

In the past few weeks, NRA Guy and I slipped into a routine that was a bit too easy or comfortable or whatever you want to call it. We literally have done nothing outside the confines of the four walls of one of our respective domiciles. Since the comedy club adventure (which also included Roommate and therefore can’t be categorized as a real date), we’d mainly been spending time at his house.

He’d also stopped making plans with me in advance. I noticed he had no problem making plans with friends before the actual day of said plans, but I couldn’t get anything solid from him until the day we saw each other.

When I was in NRA’s presence, the setup didn’t bother me so much. It was when I left that I got perturbed. With this transition… and with other things.

Soon after the fight and the subsequent making up, NRA took up the habit of telling me “we aren’t together” whenever it suited his purposes. Every time he said it, I felt like he was punishing me for revoking his boyfriend title. It really started to get on my nerves.

I started asking myself and anyone else who would listen some questions (sorry, nice commuter lady, for burdening you as you tried to read your paper in peace and get off the Metro in one piece).

Why do we always have to hang out at his house? If we’re already being lazy and staying in most nights this early on, am I ever going to get him out of the house as the relationship progresses? Is the relationship progressing? Why, if “we aren’t together,” as he’s so quick to point out, does he expect me to be available at his convenience? Why, if we aren’t together, am I stuck not dating other people? (I know, I know. It could be argued that I did this to myself. Still, it sucks.)

I decided my first course of action was to not accept any more last minute plans. My thinking was that it’d take him a while to figure it out, but that I wouldn’t accept plans less than three days in advance. I put this into effect without telling him, making sure to make plans as the days passed to fill in any blank pages in my planner. (He can be very convincing; I didn’t want my will to crumble.)

In the meantime, while I was asking all those questions and making plenty of plans and getting pissed off at an unsuspecting NRA Guy, these other guys kept cropping up and telling me to ditch him. Guys I hadn’t talked to in weeks or months suddenly showed back up on the radar. And each one of them told me he was a better option than my current selection. Considering my mindset, it didn’t take much to make me think they might be right.

As tempting as some of their offers were, one of those pesky voices kept telling me I couldn’t do that to NRA. I’d told him I wasn’t seeing anyone else and wouldn’t be doing so. I felt I had to honor that.

A mere four days into my pledge not to accept last-minute plans, I buckled. He told me on a Wednesday that he was going out of town for a Boys’ Weekend. (See? Plans. In advance. Bastard.) We hadn’t seen each other all week, and we wouldn’t until the next week if we didn’t hang out the following night. I ended up going to his place (only with a promise that he’d make his way to mine for our next several encounters).

After consuming much whiskey, we went to bed. It was then I brought up the things that were bothering me. To the best of my whiskey-clouded recollection, this is what resulted.

- He agreed to make plans in advance, to do more date things, and to introduce me to some of his friends.

- He won’t throw out “we’re not in a relationship” anymore, and he claims he never did it to punish me.

- He half-heartedly promised he’d try to be more accommodating on the whose-house-tonight front. (“But, it’s just so much more convenient to hang out here… for me.” I know this one will continue to be a battle.)

- I will do my best not to make him feel like he’s still paying for his big, fat lie. I explained that my using the word “lie” isn’t always me trying to make him feel bad (it’s more his guilty conscience, but I didn’t point that out). I did point out that, even if we systematically avoid the subject, it’s going to come up. I didn’t contact the people at the Leno show to have Jay talk about lying husbands in his opening monologue just because NRA and I might randomly tune in. I didn’t tell the comedian at the club to do a spiel about lying boyfriends when we were in the audience. It’s a common theme. We’re going to encounter it. (He told me the other day that, after he shared his version of the NYE/fight story, his coworkers address him as “Liar” now. Fantastic!)

- He/we want the relationship to progress, although I’m not sure exactly what that means.

I don’t see this working out for a long-term thing. He’s still a liar. While he claims he’s honest with me, he’s definitely not shy about telling me of his lies to others. If he’s lying to them, he’s probably lying to me. Or he will be soon. (Actually, a couple small untruths have surfaced recently. None of them amounted to much except me wondering why in the hell someone would lie about such insignificant things. I’m certain time is the only thing that stands between me and another revelation of a whopper.)

Is it completely horrible to think of this whole thing as practice for a real relationship? A warm-up? A trial run? Well, even if it is horrible, that’s kind of what I’m doing. For the most part, I enjoy the time I spend with NRA; we have fun together. I do like the guy, despite all reason, and so I find it hard to justify ending things now when nothing major has happened. I can’t say I’m completely emotionally detached. If I were, I’d have no problem saying farewell without a solid reason. At the same time, I’m trying not to get too vested in the whole thing.