(Now) Kinsley: Good Luck

Come back tomorrow for Damien's perspective!
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I guess it's my lack of relationship experience in general, but I thought that once Damien and I were back together, things would be easy.  That's what we both wanted, right?  Wrong.  Well, right, that is what we both wanted, but wrong...it wasn't easy.

We were both wary of each other.  We were both also struggling to find a compromise on the things that had caused our first breakup, even though we'd never actually had a conversation about it since we got back together.  Damien didn't mention his family at all, which was just weird.  And I had realized that not only did it hurt our relationship when I stayed quiet about things I didn't like, but I didn't like myself like that.  I had been so scared to lose everything we worked so hard for in our relationship that I lost my ability to say what I really thought.  Well, I was no longer scared to lose everything, because I'd done it once and been okay, but I lacked experience in moderating myself so that my thoughts came out honest but respectful.

We were only 2 weeks into Relationship Round Two when we had our first Relationship Round Two fight.  It started innocently, with me trying to extend a family-focused olive branch.  "So, we haven't done anything with your family since we got back together," I started.  "Do you want to?"

He watched me carefully, then thought for several seconds before he spoke.  Finally, he said, "We could."

"We could?"

"Well, yeah.  What would you want to do?"

"I don't know, Damien.  They're your family.  Don't they have family things happening every day of the week?  Pick one."  I take full responsibility for being a brat, but he was being so weird about it.  So weird.  "Hey...what did you tell them about us breaking up, anyway?"

He looked away briefly, and then looked back at me.  "I didn't."

"You didn't?"  I swear, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth sometimes.  And he was definitely acting strangely.  He had been since I mentioned his family.

"No, I didn't tell them.  I couldn't.  I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to hear what they had to say.  At least not until I was sure it was over."  He shrugged, and I looked at him in surprise.

"You don't think that they thought it was weird that we were going to family things as a couple, and then I just all of a sudden stopped going?"

"They asked a couple times, and I just said you couldn't make it."

I stared at him.  "Seriously?  So you let them think that I was completely refusing to come to anything with you for how long?  Let's see, counting the week before we broke up, the three weeks we were broken up, and the last two weeks...six weeks?!  Do you realize how terrible that makes me look?"

"Yes," he said carefully.  "I didn't know what else to do, Kinsley.  My family is not very forgiving, so if I would have told them we broke up, that would have messed things up for you if we did get back together, which I was hoping we would."

"Not if you had made things sound like a mutual decision, or not made me out to be the bad guy," I retorted.  "I'd say you messed things up for me pretty damn well this way too."

"It wouldn't have mattered.  My sisters...they're protective.  And I'm my mom's only son.  I promise that I was actually trying to protect you.  You don't understand."

"I don't," I agreed.  I was getting mad.  Really mad.  I knew that I was going to say things I would regret if I stayed here much longer.  I sucked in a deep breath, and attempted to be an adult for once.  "Okay," I said.  "I need to go home.  Can we figure this out tomorrow?"

He made a face.  "I'd rather we figured it out tonight," he replied.

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes briefly.  "I promise you that this will get really ugly if we do that.  I'm pissed off.  I don't want to fight with you but I can't have a grown up discussion now.  Please let me walk away so we can have a grown up discussion tomorrow."  He looked at me placidly and didn't respond.  "Damien, please.  This is going against every fucking instinct I have and it's hard and I have about 30 seconds of it left in me before I say 'fuck it, let's fight all goddamned night then.'  I'm trying to do this right this time and I'm telling you what I need.  That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes," he said, his face softening.  "It is.  Go.  We'll talk about it later."

Relieved, I stood up and looked for my purse, not remembering where I left it.  I spotted it on the kitchen table and I grabbed it.  "Hey," Damien said, as I started to put my shoes on.  I looked up.  "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied.  I walked over to him, standing by the couch, and hugged him.  Is this what people who know how to relationship do?  It was weird.  But it was strangely reassuring.

I got in my car and drove home.  When I got there, I felt restless.  I needed a second opinion on this.  I worried that this shit was going to keep happening and his family was going to indirectly tear us apart, over and over.  I didn't know if my worry was legitimate or leftover anxiety from the breakup or just me being completely ridiculous.  I looked at my phone.  I thought about calling Liv, but it was after 10, and she and Brody were pretty much an old married couple at this point, plus she lived so far out of town now.  I would have called Lauren, except things were still weird between us.  So, knowing that it was probably a bad choice, I called the only person I knew I could get away with calling at 10pm on a Friday.

"Broken up again already, huh?" Cole said when he answered.

"This isn't a booty call," I snapped back.

"Whoa, easy.  What is it then?"

"This is a probably highly inappropriate plea for a second opinion and guy's perspective all at once," I replied, even though I felt like what I should be doing was hanging up the phone and going to bed.

He chuckled.  "You want my opinion on your relationship issues?" he asked.

"Don't make me regret calling you," I warned him.

"Okay, okay.  Look, I'm out having dinner with a friend, but I'm in your neighborhood.  Can I stop by?  We're almost done."

I pushed away the red flag that popped up in my head and agreed.  20 minutes later, Cole knocked on my door and I let him in.  He kicked his shoes off and made himself comfortable on my couch.  "Alright, spill it."

I sat down in the chair across from him. Apparently I was okay with having a guy that I was fucking for 3 weeks come over at 10:30 on a Friday night after I argued with my boyfriend, but I drew an arbitrary line at sitting next to him on the couch.   And then I told him everything.  I mean, seriously everything.  I have no idea why, because I had no reason to let myself be vulnerable in front of this guy, aside from the fact that he really knows his way around the female body.

He listened silently while I word-vomited all over the carpet in front of him, and then he crossed his arms and leaned back.  "This is weird," he admitted, saying what we were both thinking.  "I'm not sure what to make of you sitting here spilling your guts to me."

I glared at him.  "Okay, okay," he said, "I'll ignore the weirdness.  Here's what I think:  From a man's perspective, knowing what you told me about him and about how hard he worked to get past some of your walls, I truly think that he was doing what he thought would best protect you.  I think he's maybe a little clueless, but I believe he thought that what he was doing was the best option."

I sighed.  I still wasn't sure I agreed.  "Kinsley, be logical for once in your life.  Taming you is not an easy feat.  Neither is getting you to open up.  He did both.  And it took him months, and he kept at it, because for some reason he saw something in you that literally no one else sees.  And don't look at me like that.  You brought me here for a reason, and you're getting what you paid for.  Speaking on behalf of men everywhere, you are intimidating as hell.  For all appearances, you don't give a fuck about anything, you're gorgeous, you're impulsive, and you're impossible to read.  That will send 98% of us running for the hills.  I loved fucking you--and would be happy to do it again anytime, by the way--but I wouldn't in a million years date you.  He saw something that not many people get to see, and he stuck around and made it work.  And I don't think you should settle for anything less than you deserve, but I think you're making a big mistake if you don't try to work this out."

"So you think I should just let him keep putting his family before me?  That because very few men are stupid enough to date me, I should settle for this one?" I asked wryly.

He shook his head.  "That's not what I said, and it's certainly not what I meant," he said patiently.  "I pointed that out to make a point that anyone willing to work that hard is not going to do something to be deliberately malicious to you.  You need to advocate for yourself and tell him what you need.  You said yourself that you haven't been doing that, and I promise you that the guy cannot read your mind.  Now, if you tell him what you need and he can't or won't give it to you, that's another story and you need to go.  But if you love him, tell him what you need from him and give him a chance to make it happen."

"You are blowing my mind right now, and I now take back my skepticism at you being 'full of surprises'," I said.

He laughed.  "Anything else I can help you with, then?"  He couldn't help suggestively raising his eyebrows, and I threw a throw pillow at him.  "Don't you remember what happened the last time you threw something at me?" he asked.  My cheeks got hot as I remembered the day I threw the napkin at him, which turned into a water fight into my kitchen, which turned into him fucking my brains out on my kitchen table.  He stood.  "I have to get out of here because you're making it too easy for my mind to go places it shouldn't be going right now."

"That's a good idea," I agreed.  I stood and walked to the door with him.

"As much as it pains me to say this," he said, as he shoved his feet into his shoes, "Don't fuck this up, okay?"

"I'll try," I agreed.

I pulled the front door open for him to leave then froze, because Damien was walking up the sidewalk towards my house.

"Oh shit," Cole whispered.  "Good luck."  He didn't even look at me as he walked through the door and down the sidewalk, greeting Damien briefly when they passed.  Damien turned to watch him walk away, and then turned back to me.  Even in the dark, I could see the confusion, anger, and hurt on his face.

Good luck, indeed.  I was going to need it.