Give That Man An Alicia

Once again the slogan making machine, which you can access on this page by clicking "yourslogan" under "my links", shoots out another eerily appropriate blog title, describing perfectly the current mindset of my sweet boyfriend, as well as the topic for this evening.

My boyfriend.
Lonely.
Depressed.
Back in Oklahoma taking care of his sick father.
Working in order to support his family.
Frustrated emotionally,
physically,
and, oh boy, is he frustrated sexually.
All he wants (although he'd say "needs") is for me to move there.

His family calls out . . . or, actually, calls me on my cell phone during work hours. Come on people - 8 to 5, everyday - it shouldn't be that hard to remember) . . . saying, "GIVE THAT MAN AN ALICIA!"

If I love the guy so much, have complete sympathy for his position, and miss him terribly, why aren't I out there? Why don't I just marry him?

Those are good questions.

In fact they are SUCH good questions that it's costing me $25 bucks a week to sit on my shrink's orange sofa and chat about them. You know, those orange or yellow sofa's that all people over 60 own (ooo, or those red printed sofa's with the country houses on them)? I could save a fortune by just visiting my grandmother more often.

The problem is I have trouble sorting out my opinions from other people's. I have been programed, from experiences growing up, to keep up an act so that everyone around me will be happy. My father had a horrible temper, so my mother and I became the sweetest most giving mother and daughter team in the world. Only we eventually became giving in the way someone might give a large peice of meat to a vicious animal - toss and run! Because as Sigfrued (or was it Roy?) will tell you - tonight's show tiger can easily become later tonight's reason for a visit to the emergency room.

I learned at a young age how to tell people exactly what they wanted to hear. Unfortunately this has severly damaged my relationships, because I have falsy presented my feelings and desires so much that I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore.

I also have the guidance of several wise, well-meaning friends and family members who have a wide assortment of opinions ranging from "Wow, you can do so much better" to "Wow, can I be your bridesmaid?" All of them, however, assure me that it is ultimately my decision, and I need to decide what I want to do for myself (and God, of course . . . the only person whose opinion I desperately want to sway my decisions).

The best advice I've heard from my seat on the big orange couch (and from coversations with my friends and family) is that the choice is mine, and I do not even have to make this decision right now. The decision to marry and move off to another state should not be a rushed one.

But I do worry about my boyfriend. How long can or will he wait for my decision? Just as I typed that question I thought of my friend, Ken. He once told me I needed to trust that God was going to take care of JR, my boyfriend, and that it was important that JR trust in him more than me. I must remember this at times when I speak with my boyfriend, and he sounds so depressed and frustrated with me for not having an answer that I just want to fly there and save him from his sadness.

Since my boyfriend has returned to Oklahoma and started settling in (he bought a house two days ago which will be done in February) I have felt a lot less pressure and things are becoming more clear. Hopefully more clarity will come with time. Perhaps I could skip the $25 dollar installments and switch to the lump sum payment where the shrink just tells you what you should do and it all makes sense. Wouldn't that be nice.

Questions to think about: What part do others play in your decision making process? Whose opinions have the most weight in your life (God, family, friends, co-workers, the media)? What is the biggest decision that you have ever had to make? Who did you consult in order to make that decision?

*Special Note: I was only joking about his family disturbing me at work! People do call to chat during my work hours, and it does bother me, but not his family members.