Except the Exception

They say there's an exception to every rule. The book "He's Just Not That Into You" says there's an exception. So, what is this exception about?

We all make up rules for ourselves in life. I won't do this, I won't do that. If this happens, then I'll do that. But we seem to be forced into saying "the exception" to that is...

Why do we make rules if there's always an exception? Then it's not really a rule, right?

I made a lot of rules regarding relationships in my life. I thought I was putting them into place to protect myself; guarding myself from getting hurt. Well, I can never get hurt if I never fully put myself into something. And I'll never put myself fully into something unless I have an escape plan. Some sign or feeling to know when to call it quits.

Do we make exceptions in love? Or is love the exception to every rule we make? I won't do this unless I'm in love. I won't say this unless I'm in love. I won't go there unless I'm in love.

I recently told someone that I couldn't see them anymore unless...except if he was willing to be serious about a relationship with me. Why did I do that, say that to him? Honestly, I don't know. The title? The responsibility for my feelings?

I was protecting myself I guess. I thought "I'm only going to get hurt." "It'll never work out." So I said goodbye to a man who treated me with respect and consideration to find someone willing to say "I am serious about you."

I also told this man that I wasn't sure if I could be his friend. But a few days later, a friend was what he needed more than a girlfriend. I told myself that I would be his friend, unless/except if it got too hard for me.

The first casual lunch together felt like nothing had changed. We talked the same, we laughed the same, and my heart felt the same. But my head was the exception. It was holding up a CAUTION sign. BEWARE.

But there was something about this man that I loved being around. He made me laugh and he had a passion for something I witnessed in his eyes. We still talked on the phone and texted. It felt good to be his friend, except when I remember to check in with my heart and it reminded me that I want more with this man.

I used to have this rule about not meeting someone's parents/family until at least we'd determined what we "were" to each other. I made an exception to that today (yesterday).

My time with this friend is being cut short by early, unexpected deployment and extension of duty. I used this as my excuse for my exception. I had limited time to say goodbye to my friend until next March, and having to drive him and his parents from the airport to his house shouldn't be a reason to be hard-headed.

I was nervous but it was fine. It's funny when you meet someone's parents and you can see pieces, glimpses of them in each parent. Their relationship toward each other was sweet and playful. It made me smile.

I thought I'd drop them off, say a quick goodbye, and not see him until next March. I didn't know what to expect. I told myself that I wouldn't stay and intrude. And although his parents traveled across the entire country to see him, he and I left the house and spent an hour talking privately.

It was hard to sit and listen to his concerns about life and his wants when he gets back. The hard part was sitting their thinking that I want those same things out of life. And when he said, "When I get back, you'll probably be married with kids," I started to realize that I may not be just a soundboard to his goals.

But being the protector that I am, I said, "It's a possibility." Which realistically isn't true because he'll be gone for 8 months. Pretty sure it takes 9 to have a baby.

I think he was trying to open up and tell me something, but I purposely wasn't being receptive to the conversation. I was vague and short with my responses. Mostly because I didn't feel like crying at Starbucks. I've tried to tell myself that he doesn't mean as much as I originally thought, and Starbucks wasn't my ideal place to say goodbye to someone or have a "this is what I want when I get back" conversation.

As hard as I try, I continue to fail. He's becoming the exception to a lot of my previous rules. There's too many factors: time and location being two major ones.

I am both the teenager daughter and the mother. I tell myself I can't do something, and I do it anyway. I take the keys away on principle, only to give them back on weakness.

We've decided to email each other while he's gone. And again, I don't know why I agreed to that. I'm a sucker. I can't help myself I guess. A southern accent and a killer smile is all it took. That and the slight glint tears in his eyes. I just couldn't say no.

So, I guess I'll just keep a list of exceptions since they don't seem to end where he's concerned. Maybe exception is the way to clarity.

SONG OF THE DAY: "The Only Exception" by Paramore
"I'd never sing of love if it did not exist." What a great line!
The words of this song seem to come from a dream stemming from my subconscious. I hear them and mouth them along with the music...I can't help but think someone is reading my thoughts. From heartbreak to what I tell myself to avoid it. Then meeting someone that may be worth rethinking the mediation between my head and my heart.
And then the lyrics about the person leaving in the morning when he wakes.

"I told myself I'm content with loneliness because none of it was ever worth the risk." I'm fairly sure I've said that to myself if not out loud to a close friend. I used to joke with a few college friends that the comedy of being a romantic writer who doesn't have romance herself was poetic. Now, I think it's kind of pathetic.

It's like trying to write about a travel destination without having been there. "Write what you know." That's what all the advisories say when you go to a writing workshop or bootcamp.

Well, I know that, right now, I don't want to be without a certain exception.