I pit AMOR -- specifically, the 19-yr.-old variety.

All right, so I’m nineteen, and I’ve been seeing this young man off and on for three and a half years. We have so much in common – same sense of humor being the main one, which leads to oft-concurring tastes in films, art, books, plays, etc. We’re both student actors, and we’re in the same summer Shakespeare troupe: three years ago, he did Benedick, I did Beatrice. Two years ago, I did Rosaline, he did Berowne. Last year, he did Orlando, I did Rosalind. Although we didn’t go to the same secondary school, during the year we often made the twenty-mile trip out to each other’s hometown to do lunch, or see a play, or go to a movie or concert. Over these three years, I’ve had other gentlemen friends and he’s had other lady friends, but (although of course I can’t speak for him) I never felt as deep a connection/attachment/affection for any of them as I did for this particular young man.

So, last summer we dated exclusively for two months, which was an enormous change of pace for both of us, and then headed off to different schools. He-ey, Self! I say to meself. You’re starting college, you know, time to get this fellow out of here and crack out the dating around! See the world! Have fun! Meet someone else with whom you can dance on the sidewalk and stay up until dawn talking on the phone!

Which worked fine for the first term, all right, keeping busy, trying to stay afloat in the workload, distracting myself with new people and places and fantastic theater (the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, for the record – yum).

But now! Now we’re both back for the holidays, and I can’t stop thinking about him. And I can’t figure out if I want to marry him (because aww, we fit together just right and we’re both so fun and funny and he’s smart and lovely and delightful) or get over him hugely (because HELLO, you’re NINETEEN and that is WAY TOO YOUNG ARE YOU ON CRACK?), and it’s just an enormous irksome, painful, bitter feeling to care so much about one person, especially one person who thinks Death Cab for Cutie is a good band.

Every day, I can’t go for more than an hour or two without thinking about him – just little things, like “hey, if he were here…” “…he and I could put our heads together and snark on that woman’s awful blouse,” or “…I could make a punnish aside and he would get it,” or “…he’d come over and rescue me from this dreadful conversation with a great excuse,” or “…he’d finish that line of George Tesman’s dialogue for me.”

I ran into him at the theater last weekend, and I fired off an email that evening mentioning that we should do lunch, and now it’s been six days and he hasn’t even called. Not that I care, because I am aloof and busy and too young to worry about ANY of this, right? Right. Shut up, emotions. Go away and leave me alone. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

(Huh. That was more whiny than Pit-y. This was a newbie’s try, though, and I imagine I’ll get the hang of it eventually. :))

That sucks, but just checking - did that mail have a return receipt? 'cos sometimes things just disappear on them there internets. Bad servers, or whatever.

Maybe call him instead? Why wait? I’d not be married and expecting a baby on Monday if I’d waited for her to call… just saying.

Fortunately, your only choices aren’t either marrying him or getting over him… and you’re not obligated to immediately get over him and start sleeping around like a proper young person just because you’re 19 and thinking you might want to marry him. CALL THE BOY!
/ Elfbabe, who is now 20 and is therefore officially allowed to have strong feelings and meaningful relationships - hooray!

Of course it’s a dichotomy, Elfbabe! That’s how relationships work! Right? Right? Right?

MrDibbler, I was wondering myself if that email didn’t get lost in the Sucking Void of Webspace – or maybe it just got on the wrong internet. What with there being so many of them, you know :slight_smile:

I suppose it’s mostly my own pride that’s keeping me from ringing him up: I would be crushed if it turned out that he had been blowing me off. And that I’m so confused about where I want to be with him, especially since this “always on my mind” business makes for a good song but a crappy reality. Woe.

I did pony up for a small Christmas present for him, and one for his parents, and I’d hate to see those go to waste. Where’s the-- ah, there you are.

:confused:

The hardest part of attraction is mulling over how the other person feels.

People want to be loved. It is what sustains many of us. That desire can be very strong. I would know, I’m in a situation where I like someone but their feelings towards me are vague. Of course I wish dearly they liked me as intensely as I like them, but things are never that simple for me.

Romance has been a bramble-laden uphill climb for me over the years. I’m less discouraged than I used to be, but still disappointed with myself at setbacks.

Tracy, judging solely by the tone and content of your post, I’d say your young Lochinvar is very lucky: you’re obviously bright, wryly humorous, deeper, and more insightful and introspective than your average nineteen year old gum-chewing floozie.

(No offense meant to any floozies out there; some of my fondest memories involve floozies. But I disgress).

If it were me in Lochinvar’s shoes, I’d say that he’s wondering some of the same things you are: does this alluring young lady want me in the same way I’m wanting her? And it sounds to me like you’ve not really been clear in your own mind about that, much less clear with him.

So… before HE arrives at Netherby Hall, I’d humbly suggest you figure out what it is you want. And as elfbabe wisely suggests, you are not limited to either marrying him or kicking him to the curb; you can have a relationship with him that’s exclusive and committed and doesn’t involve china patterns just yet.

Good luck.

If you have an ongoing relationship for three years, you’re not going to come across as some neurotic grasping … chick! … if you call or email him. It’s possible he’s just busy – it’s possible he’s dating some new woman – it’s possible he’s pining after you – it’s possible the email got lost – it’s possible he’s been abducted by aliens. Who the hell knows?

Give him a call and say “Hi, I’ve missed you, when can we get together over the holidays?” And then get together and see what the vibe is. And if the vibe is anything this side of arctic, go ahead and tell him what you’re thinking. The one thing I’ve learned over the years is that beating around the bush doesn’t actually do anything but trample the bush.

This right here? Genius.

I agree with the others. Give the boy a call. It’s not like you just met him last week after all, you guys have been close for over 3 years!

Good luck!

I agree with the above folks.

And as for 19-year-old amour, well, I met this great guy at age 19, in college. He was smart, funny, handsome, and sweet to me, and we got to be best friends and more. And yeah, I went through some “geez, aren’t I young for this? Is this “the guy for me” or am I settling?” thoughts, and I worked out what I was looking for. Turns out that the answer was him. These days, I’m 34 and married to that guy, who’s still my best friend.

I’m not guaranteeing anything with your guy, but I’m saying that yeah, you can find someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with at your age. And if that’s not what you’re looking for right now, that’s fine too.

I’d like to echo this. God, I’d like to have Tracy’s perspective and I’m 22!

Give him a call, and go snark on women’s blouses! :slight_smile:

As far as the timing of meeting “the one” is concerned – I’m 49, and haven’t yet; my sister, OTOH, got married when she was 19, and this coming May, they’ll celebrate their 35th anniversary.

Now that’d make a good sig line.

Not if I want to avoid getting smacked by Mrs. Bricker… :smiley:

When I met my husband, I was just barely nineteen, and I went through the same things that you did. I’d had it drilled into my head by my mom that I shouldn’t get married until I was at LEAST 25, and my dad actively ENCOURAGED me to date around when my husband and I started dating (this before he met my husband, so it wasn’t a personal like/dislike thing).

I knew, however, that this was The One, and after we’d been dating a while, my parents began to see it, too. Dumping him because I’m “too young” would’ve been monumentally stupid, because I honestly don’t think I’d ever find someone else I could be this happy with.

If you think this is it…stay with him. Pursue him. And if it doesn’t turn out to be, then you’re still young enough to find the person who is. But you’ll never know if you don’t keep going :).

Hey, wait… that’s my story too (but FH has a year on me…) ! Met my guy a month & a half into my freshman year in college & (mostly) never looked back.

Call him & see what’s up…

Very flattering, some of you are! Thank you for the encouragement, and I’m screwing my courage to the sticking-place to call tomorrow – it’s too late to call politely, and I’ve been out all day. AAAAHH.*

I am afraid that as of lately, Lochnivar (lovely allusion, Bricker! Is it Sir Walter Scott, or am I on crack?) and I been stuck in a “beating around the bush” sort of rut (it’s the rut around the bush, see, the cart just keeps going in circles and – oh, forget it!), in that we’re MUCH more with the talking and the sharp introspection than actually, you know, doing things. That I put down to the both of us being melodramatic and a little pretentious. :slight_smile: Partially trampled already? I hope not, but I think we’ll have to figure out a way to snap out of the habit before the whole orchard is crushed.

There was some hanky-panky with instant messenger and away messages last night, from which I could either take that he was blowing me off or that he was very busy. However, the whole instant-messaging social business is so unreadable that I’m inclined to disregard any vibe/tone I pick up from it.

The stories about meeting The One young are lovely – I’ve got a feeling about this fellow, but am definitely running into the same sort of “should there be more…stuff?” feeling as Angel, FH, and Politzania. My parents were married at 30 and 36, respectively, and was my Papa’s second marriage after a divorce (it’s a really sweet story, actually – Papa’s first wife knew them both and introduced them because she knew they were perfect for each other. Awwwww). I’m coasting along in no rush, but on the other hand, as Billy Crystal so eloquently points out in When Harry Met Sally:slight_smile:

Any way, I’m sure that after the call tomorrow I’ll be back clamoring for advice – thanks to all of you for helping me keep my feet on the ground. :smiley:
l’panique*
**faux French.

So I gave him a call today, planning to be casual and mellow, you know, ask if he wanted to do lunch or a movie or something. Fellow’s mother picked up the phone, said they were making gingerbread houses, and asked if he could call me back later, “in a few hours,” and I said “of course.” That was at three. It’s now almost midnight.

You know, I don’t care what your deal is, mister, that’s just rude. You’re a big callous loser who’s too self-important to even give the “sorry, I’m really busy over break” brush-off? BITE ME. Take your eighteen-year-old fucktardedness and GO DATE THAT BLONDE AGAIN FOR ALL I CARE.

fume

If the boy’s (and I stress boy here) has his mother making excuses for him as to why he can’t come to the phone, I’d move on, honestly.

Maybe his mother was so involved with the gingerbread she forgot to tell him.

Anyway, if it doesn’t work out, it sure sounds like it’s his loss in a big way.

It is indeed Sir Walter Scott… and I chose it for a number of reasons, not the least of which was Lochnivar’s feigned disinterest in Ellen after he arrives too late at the wedding.

I’m just sayin’. :slight_smile: