That’s what it told me when I looked my name up on UrbanDictionary.com… [my name] “is not yet defined.” And I thought that was just perfect, because after all, isn’t it so absolutely true that it needs no further explanation?
I am 34 years old… and I am Not Yet Defined. I am literate, well-spoken, of reasonable intelligence, and I have been told many times that I am 49% female, despite my male exterior. At issue, though, as of press time… is that I have absolutely no idea what is going on in my life.
So naturally, now is the perfect time to start a new blog.
My family is fine, my job is satisfactory, and I even have a couple of local friends I’ve been hanging out with more and more lately — Sharon, who has become my de facto gym partner, and Whitney, who’s good for everything from movie-hopping to roller skating to roller derby, which we’ll get to later. They have become my lifelines lately, and truthfully, life could be a whole hell of a lot worse.
And then there’s Jennifer.
My girlfriend of almost 16 months, around whom I found myself mentally planning a life, the universe, and everything, has decided she needs unspecified Space, citing unspecified Turmoil on her end that I am led to believe is family-related. I am, of course, more than willing to respect being held at an unspecified Arm’s Length for the duration of the Turmoil, since my goal is and always has been unending support, acceptance, and understanding. I can’t say I’ve always succeeded, human as I am, but I have made the attempt, and may I opine that she would attest to my success to the furthest extent necessary for the purposes of this discussion. The trouble is that it’s beginning to look less and less like a temporary entrenchment at Arm’s Length, and more and more like a gradual distancing that may eventually lead to the careful placement of these last 16 months squarely in the recycling bin.
So there it is, right in front of me: the best laid plans, as it were, teetering on the brink. That which was once permanent and unquestioned in my mind as recently as two months ago is now on life support and rests entirely in someone else’s hands, putting me even further into unfamiliar territory, taking into account that I have never had a relationship go on anywhere near this long. She has, in moments of distress, gone so far as to encourage me to cut my losses, but to what end remains a mystery, since she seems unwilling to do so herself. What little communication has taken place over the last couple of weeks always seems to center around how busy we both are, so for the time being, things appear to be up in the air with little hope of coming down anytime soon. So, as I used to say, sometimes when you’re at a standstill, the best thing to do is just stand still. This is my intention, friends. Flailing your arms and shouting cries of despair will only disturb the fragile air around you.
This is what it’s like sometimes, being Not Yet Defined. You take the bad with the good. Or is it the other way around?