Trip 4: Day 3, why?

A night of thinking and postulating, again.

Why, why do I do this? Why do I have to cause problems? Create problems? Why can’t I just take each day as a gift and be happy?

It’s clear to anyone who reads my blog (thank you by the way 😊) that I am deeply in love with Wildcard. I’ve told you that he is everything I want and dreamed and yet my all-encompassing fear of losing him clouds the good that we have.

Last night, I got upset. Again. I hate myself for writing it and saying it and feeling it.

After a moment of perfect intimacy and love, fear took over.

It seems to be a pattern.

I get excited, so excited.

I arrive. I’m so happy.

And then I realise, despite it being impossible, that I love him even more than I thought. Every moment of being close; his joking and teasing, our laughter; our talking and eating and sharing every moment; our love making….my heart and soul swell like they will just burst. And as soon as I feel like that fear comes rushing in.

He doesn’t feel the same. Always that, always.

Where is my evidence? Well, my brain, trying to protect me in this very vulnerable state, finds it. Seeks it out.

Of course now, after sleeping and more love making, I see the idiocy and error of my ways. But at the time? At the time I feel like my world is falling apart. I even looked for an early flight home. Ri-di-cu-lous. As if I could tear myself away from him.

Expectation is the route of all disappointment. I know this. Yet I fall for it whether I want to or not.

I seek out evidence of him feeling like I do, constantly forgetting that as a man, as a man from a completely different culture, he will not show it as I do, how I expect, or even how I want. So when I don’t see it, I let that goddamn tsunami of fear sweep over me, obliterating rational thought. Every. Time.

I need to find a way of explaining this to him so he doesn’t think me completely crazy. I’ve tried to explain that these are my problems, not his and that I recognise that and apologise for it (thank you Tony Robbins).

But. He isn’t entirely innocent.

I suspect, and long have, that he has his own set of demons and past relationship trauma. Whilst he tells me and shows me he loves me every day, he’s never allowed himself to be truly vulnerable around me. He’s never completely let me in. And it’s no good asking him – the more I ask, the more he refuses. He won’t be forced to say anything unless he wants to say it.

I don’t dislike that about him. I would rather something was said heartfelt than half-heartedly because it is forced. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help when I’m drowning in the anxiety-tsunami.

He’s at work now. Things were OK, good, between us this morning. He text me to ask about a deleted message I sent last night. It simply told him I couldn’t sleep. He knew it wasn’t just barking dogs.

Another issue, is that whilst a part of me knows I am being unreasonable, and tries to hide this from him, he always knows. And then I have to try, but often just avoid and then fail, to explain in any way where I come out positively.

And so, here I am. 12 o clock on my 3rd day here and I’m nervous that he is well and truly fed up of me. Because even if my initial thoughts and worries were false, they have now caused an actual problem.

So what could change this ridiculous cycle? I have no idea. Last night, after he repeatedly pressed me to tell him and I repeatedly avoided..we had a tickle fight, he refused to tell me what I wanted to hear (in his head he’s thinking, why? Why do I need to say it again – have I not just proved it?) I was sad, and then he held me and kissed me over and over, telling me he loves me. He loves me.

Making motivation

I’m a thinker, not a doer. That just about sums me up. Overthinker is probably more accurate.

I had a little read of a new blog today, One of his posts was about personality traits so this was a great way of procrastinating and not applying for jobs. 120 statements later and I am…

An assertive, pleasure seeking, emotional and sensitive person who likes novelty and variety as I am imaginative and creative.

I also have low self discipline and cooperation.

I am no Psychologist and I have completely done this an injustice. I would say it is fairly accurate though. I’ve average on most things apart from my emotions and creativity.

I will look into this further at some point. The reason for doing it, other than procrastinating, was to try get an insight. Into myself.

I still feel lost. I don’t know where I am going or heading. I’m working my way through Mel Robbins’ book and I am finding it hard to specify what my dreams actually are. I don’t know what jobs to go for. I don’t know where to start.

Being the over-emotional thinker that I am, I get overwhelmed easily. Overwhelm means overthink which results in…nothing. I sit and think, and wonder and then do little. Then feel bad about it. Mel says doing is so much better than thinking. I agree but I think a lot so I’m not sure how to stop that.

I have a weekly plan for cleaning my house. This is to encourage me not to be overwhelmed and just do something each day. Today’s job is bedrooms.

After a morning of sleeping, scrolling, vaccination-having and over thinking, I made myself get up. And I used Mel’s 5,4,3,2,1 to help. I like music. So I figured I would spend one song on my eldest room, two of my middle, three on my youngest, four on the spare and five ish on my room. And it worked!

Sure, I went over a little. But that was my choice. And so today I have achieved something.

You see, it is not that I lack motivation as such. I just lack the self discipline to get started. Once I get started, I often take it too far – tipping the whole toy box out to sort it in some OCD inspiring way. All or nothing.

Why don’t I know what I want? Why can I not let myself go there and think about it? I like thinking. I think a lot. Why can’t I just open the doors to my hidden desires?

I’m going to have to make myself do it. I suspect that I’m frightened to look at what I really want because of the disappointment if I don’t get it. I don’t like failing which is probably why I am procrastinating all the time, not knowing what to do. For someone who likes now experiences and variety, it is no wonder that I am unhappy at the moment. Sitting on the couch thinking will do that to you.

Overthinking, bad maths and logical thought.

I will admit, I walked into work feeling quite negative this morning. Whereas sleep normally soothes my anxieties and provides me with a reality check and clarity, this morning that didn’t happen. Maybe writing my post this morning didn’t help either – I usually write at night but was too tired and had spent my evening gazing lovingly at Wild Card. Whilst worrying.

(Disclaimer: I am absolutely, definitely suffering from PMT)

I actually wondered if I could go through with this LDR this morning…

Maybe I do not have the right temperament for this. I am naturally anxious, have a low self esteem and plenty of relationship baggage to impede me. How long will I cope with this? The second visit was going to cement things for me. Now it probably won’t happen.

How much of this ‘relationship’ is a figment of my desires and imagination?

How can he possibly be interested in me? Last night he sent me a photograph of himself and it was just… Perfect. It actually made me gasp, my heart racing. And then I think… How the hell is he with you? Is he even with you? How do you know? Maybe you are just a distraction or a game.

It doesn’t help that he is a joker, a tease. Every day he asks me if I have missed him and love him. I always answer truthfully. Every day I ask the same. He always says no. Always with a sly look on his face or with comical emphasis. (He does text that he loves me and misses me BTW, and he always says I love you before we say goodnight but my mind wasn’t thinking about that). Most of the time I know he is joking. But sometimes, 2+2 really does equate to 124658 which means he doesn’t love me.

I walked into my office deciding that perhaps I need to take a step back. Perhaps that’s what he wants. I need to focus on myself. I’m thinking about him, this, far too much. Am I really that happy? Or do I just think I am.

Luckily for me, my first meeting was with the Head of MFL and someone I get on with really well. I’d actually confided in him about Wild Card a few weeks ago as he had repeatedly asked if I was OK and offered a trusting ear. He was good to speak to – knew of Wild Card’s culture and country, had dated someone from another culture and well, was a man. He’d given me some sound advice so far.

We talked work for a while and then the conversation moved on the Coronavirus. He is much more upto date on events than I am (I don’t watch the news purposefully) and he talked about his concerns for his pending trip abroad with his wife and small children. I put across my, seemingly, naive stance on it and we discussed it further. It then dawned on me… I am probably right, Wild Card’s reluctance could be wholly to do with the Coronavirus. I mentioned the situation and my colleague agreed, particularly knowing the culture of responsibility for guests and acknowledging the health care system there. I felt like a weight had lifted.

And then, a little later on in the morning, I happened to read a fellow blogger’s comments on my last post. And she completely and utterly made sense, again understanding his culture. If he and his family looked after me so well last time, how would they cope if I was ill? If I was stranded there? It was the first thing he asked me when I had broached the visit yesterday and whilst I may have convinced him that I was fine with it, he clearly isn’t. And his family probably aren’t either.

Wild Card had messaged me as usual and we had a quick chat with him asking how I was etc.

Someone who doesn’t care would not repeatedly ask if you’re OK.

Someone not interested in you would not spend hours of his day talking to you and making you laugh.

Have I forgotten his care and love when I visited? Have I forgotten his passion and the look on his face? Have I forgotten the frustration he has when he thinks I don’t believe or trust his feelings? Or that I have met his family and talk to them? Or his hurt when he thinks he’s upset me with his joking?

So, breathe. Stop with the bad maths and overthinking.


That night when I spoke to Wild Card, he again brought up Coronavirus, telling me that more cases had been diagnosed in his country. I siezed the opportunity and just asked him if that what why he didn’t want to book. He admitted it was. He said that, if I fell ill, he worried about the health care I would receive or what would happen if flights were cancelled. Everything slotted in to place for me, and my irrational fears were ill founded as usual.