I fight myself - it seems like - on a daily basis.

It's been, what, 4 years since I last had a serious, serious relationship?!?

4 years since I last trusted myself with another person.
4 years since I last believed in myself with another person.
4 years since I last wholly trusted another person.

It was a conscientious decision, to be sure. But circumstances that occurred after the decision simply made it easier to follow thru with the course of action.

And so here I am - a man who's not spent more than 2 consecutive months with the same girl in the last 4 years of his life - and I'm pushing 3 months with this ever-so-unexpected girl from Rome.

She's just about as sweet as they come. She's honest with me. She tells me her dreams and her fears. She's not afraid to smile and laugh and kiss me with abandon. She's not afraid to cry in front of me, either.

She does things - like tells me her ex-boyfriend called her - with such aloofness that it's obvious she expects me to care even less than she does. Obvious that there's no reason not to trust her. And there isn't. When I take time to step outside and think, that point becomes quite clear.

But the knee-jerk reaction still dwells somewhere deep inside me. Left over from the mistakes that I've made and the daggers to the heart that I've taken. Sometimes I get jealous. Sometimes, frustrated. Sometimes still, I close up.

But I'm trying. I swear to God, I am.

I see a battle on the horizon, to be honest.

Castel Sant'Angelo at Night 2, originally uploaded by uncsuperman.

Honestly, I don't know where the time goes. But a month has passed since I last wrote and time will not stand still, no matter what we do.

After a particularly exhausting and boring day on Monday, I slumped into my seat on the almost-vacant bus pulling out of Stazione Termini. Unfortunately, the apartment I chose in late April ended up being about 1000 miles (don't ask me for that in kilometers, please) from where I work. It sometimes is a pain in the ass, but my 50-70 minute commute sometimes gives me time to relax, decompress, and reflect.

Such was the case Monday night.

I'm not sure what I was listening to, but my MP3 player was on and I had been sweating periodically throughout this long and sweltering day, so I'm sure I smelled a little. I crossed my arms and put them on the handlebar directly in front of me. Then I rested my chin on them and stared off into the Roman night. Maybe 4 other people were on the bus with me, and I'm sure I looked quite pitiful and depressed to them. Or perhaps they didn't consider me at all...probably not.

But I wasn't depressed - I was just shutting down for a few minutes. Life sure is different here. Italy is not some 3rd world country, to be sure, but it's on a whole different level from America. There are a lot of poor people here. It's dang near impossible to own a home within the city because living expenses are so high, and wages are so low. If I work 30 hours a week, as a teacher, then my salary is higher than the average for the city. And most of them work quite a bit more than I do.

It's an odd contrast or contradiction of sorts. You can't walk for 5 minutes without seeing evidence of this terrific glory from the past. But today, the city - let alone the country - struggles. If you work for the government, you have a contract for life. It's almost impossible to get fired. Yet others in the private sector struggle mightily to find work.

From what my students tell me, income tax can be as high as 50%, depending on your salary. Yet the city shows no signs of that type of monetary support. It lacks maintenance, renovation and cleaning. Evidence of a large and highly inefficient government, I presume.

Despite all of this - the city remains a magnificent place to be. Which just highlights the potential it has. If traffic could be eased with better public transport; if the cost of living could be brought down; if the city could be cleaned up using some of that tax money. Oh the potential.

I like being here. It's cool as all hell, to be honest. But I don't know how long I will remain. I'm not sure if it's a fault or a virtue - but I just don't like planning anything. Right now, at this moment, I want to stay here for a long time. Years. But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

And it kills me every time Valeria asks me the question.

I tell her not to worry, but it doesn't help. I feel lucky simply because she chose to stick around. Somehow we made it through the little crisis a month ago and have been wonderful ever since. 2 weeks ago we went to Siena for a day and night and had a great time in that romantic little city. She's been gone on vacation this entire week and I honestly didn't think it would matter to me. I have missed her terribly.

Things have escalated - not at an alarming pace, mind you - but at a pace that makes you realize something, something very big, is right about it all. I am trying to stay grounded in all of this. It's difficult not to think about the obvious expanse that divides us but it's a lot of fun to think about the possibilities which lay ahead.

Perhaps part of this little adventure was the idea to separate myself from my life up until this point. To detach, in a way, and reflect upon the things which I have done; the decisions which I have made; and the paths which I have taken. I think that in a way, I have succeeded in this.

For most of my life I have been a very mature person. But it has become increasingly evident to me that in relationships, I can be quite the immature little snob. I don't know why - maybe it stems from the royal treatment my sisters and mother gave me growing up. But whatever the reason, it's my responsibility.

I have expected a lot from my companions. I have expected things to be on my terms.

I think maybe we're getting to that point again, where I have to decide if I'm in or out. Fold or ante up?

Like I said before, eventually I'm going to have to step up...