Blah.

That’s all I have to say.

Ok, not true. That’s all I want to say. There’s just way too much.

I’m going to NYC from June 11-18. Howdy to all you New Yorkers.

As for my supposed “love” life, I’ve been out a total of about 10 times with the guy I blogged about a few weeks ago, whom I’m still calling “Andy.” Ten sounds like a lot, and I guess it is, but it’s been two or three times a week, just for dinner, a movie, or out to the club, so I don’t feel like it’s going too fast.

It’s been almost a month I’ve been single. And I’ve been very honest with Andy about the fresh breakup and where I am emotionally.

The scary thing is how much I’m beginning to like Andy already. Of course, it’s still that euphoric “new and exciting prospect” attraction going on, but it’s surprisingly good, and I’m not sure how to handle it. It’s one of those pairings that doesn’t work on paper, and really shouldn’t work at all, but it does. In fact, I think he’s falling for me. Okay, I don’t think. He told me. Not sure how to handle that either. More on Andy and those concerns later.

I’m very torn. I like Andy as much as I miss Patrick. I really do. And that’s a hell of a lot. I talk to Patrick once or twice a week, just to make sure he’s okay, and he sounds like he’s well, but it’s still hard, of course.

Patrick told me earlier this week that he had placed a personal ad online. That was hard to hear, and I felt jealous. Here I am, dating a guy I like, and I’m jealous of Patrick placing a personal ad? How dumb is that?!

The other problem I’m having is that I still get all sappy and teary-eyed about Patrick nearly every day. For someone who has always been very in control of my emotions (and even called “icy” by friends), I’m a big mess over this. I can’t help but think I’ve made a mistake since I’m still this upset.

Actually, one of the few things to cheer me up is seeing Andy. Sounds like a dangerous rebound situation, doesn’t it?

I keep telling myself that this is healthier for both me and Patrick, and he even agrees with me now (though he says he misses me “constantly”), but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve thrown away something wonderful, despite a few problems.

The truth is, we had very few problems; we were just too young to be so married. I’ve said that before here, but I can’t emphasize it enough. I needed to meet Patrick when I was five or so years older. Maybe we’ll still be in contact then and something will work out. Or maybe he’ll be married off and I’ll be miserable and alone, still pining over him. Or maybe I’ll really fall for Andy and that’s what was always meant to happen.

I have to stop thinking about this. I never knew I could spend an entire month thinking entirely about one thing. Welcome to an entirely new level of obsession, even for me.

On Monday night I was very lonely. I didn’t want to do the Memorial barbecue thing with my family, so I was home alone. All I could think about was how I should have been at Patrick’s family’s barbecue. I miss his family almost as much as I miss him. My family and I aren’t really close. They are way too ultra-Mormon and conservative for that. But I was a welcome and loved addition to Patrick’s family; even his grandpa loved me. It was nice to be their “son-in-law” (his mom’s words, not mine).

Anyway, I ended up going to bed early and couldn’t sleep.

All night long I thought about getting out of bed and driving to Patrick’s.

I’ll open his door with the key I haven’t yet brought myself to return, then I’ll climb the stairs and peek into his room. He’ll be asleep in boxers, on his left side with his right leg and arm dangling over the edge of the waterbed, like always.

He never wakes when I enter the room, so I’ll quietly get undressed and slide into bed, right where I always do. Even before I get too close, I’ll hear him breathing and feel his notorious body heat.

I’ll slip one arm under him and the other over, my chest to his back. At one inch shorter and 20 pounds lighter, he’s the perfect size for me to hold. When I spoon him in our usual going-to-sleep position, he’ll probably stir, but I’ll bet he won’t wake enough to remember this isn’t normal anymore.

Even if he does, it will only take a few seconds for his sleep-fuzzy mind to realize what I’m doing. He’ll half-smile, then sigh and settle into me, back where he belongs.

And then it’s my turn. After a month of bad nights, I’ll finally sleep soundly again because I’m wrapped around him … and safe.

But instead I lie here awake.

Everybody knows it’s just so hard to sleep when you’re away from your home.