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...

I Do Want

Let me first say that this post was written some weeks ago, and much has changed since then. The girl, Valeria, is no longer my student. She no longer has a boyfriend. And our relationship is no longer strictly professional. We have spent a lot of time together and we have shared some magical moments, to be sure. Things which I merely wished for while I was teaching her, have now come true. The English language doesn't lend itself to conveying the beauty of the past 3 weeks.

But now, she's scared. Truth be told, so am I. We met on Friday and she told me, after speaking to a friend, that she thought we didn't have a future. I'm from North Carolina, after all. A long way from Rome. And that she needed a few days to think. We then proceeded to have one fantastic afternoon merely sitting in her car, talking. I know not what happens next. I don't know if this is my place in the story.


I was sitting in front of her. One eye maintaining the "teacher" role that I was supposed to be playing - the other slipping into just "Jonathan".

Maybe it was me. Maybe her. Unsure of how the conversation veered from the educational into the personal, the reality was that it had, and I found myself in the middle of something that I never would have expected.

"I...I don't, umm, understand all the English words" she said, in this very urgent but somehow controlled way of speaking. I was aware that something important was happening, and that she wanted so badly to use words which she didn't yet know - words which would convey the depth of her message.

"But...I understand this."

She looked at me briefly and pointed at her eyes.

"And I understand...how I feel."

At that moment, the obvious language barrier that exists between us became irrelevant. I knew and she knew. And that was all that mattered.

That was Tuesday. In Thursday's class I tried to stay on point, referencing the book more than I usually do in any class. But she wouldn't follow my lead. She kept joking about ex-girlfriends that I had mentioned previously. Or a girl that I told her I'd gone to a party with over the weekend, Nicoletta.

Maybe 30 minutes into the lesson, a brief hush came over us from somewhere. She broke the silence.

"I have a question."

Okay. Maybe she wants to know the difference between Past Simple and Present Perfect tenses. That I can answer.

But that wasn't the question. The question she asked, I couldn't answer.

"After the...after I...finish this...course. What happens?"

It would have been infinitely easier had she been talking about her study of the English language. She wasn't.

"I don't know." And I didn't. I don't know what to say to that because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being a jerk and of being unsatisfied and of hurting the girl. I'm afraid and I've been afraid for a long, long time. But at some point, I'm going to have to step up. So I asked her a question.

"What do you want to happen?"

"I...have a boyfriend. And, I...am scared that you go back to North Carolina. You tell me in first class that you go home in September...October. But, I want to know you."

A few lessons ago, I had offered to continue teaching her on the side after she finished her lessons at the school. I reiterated that offer to her.

"I...I don't want you to teach me. I want to know you...if you want."

"I do. I do want."

"I want the Bahamas."

"Valeria is the North Atlantic. Which one requires a true man?"


A brilliant twist? Perhaps, J. Eldredge, perhaps.

Well?

Colosseum from Vittoriano 2, originally uploaded by uncsuperman.

The Colosseum and The Forums

A Near Perfect Day

The Skies That Particular Shade of Blue - Carolina Blue

Does It Get Any Better?

If I didn't have a Conscience...

My life would be Un-Freakin-Believable

But alas, my Conscience is alive and well and - for better or for worse - it fights with all that it has.

Villa Adriana

In lieu of talking about my own personal problems (which have become exponentially more complicated over, say, the last 72 hours - and involve only the female gender - maybe this is why I went on "sabbatical" for so long), I'm simply going to post a nice picture or two.

Enjoy Villa Adriana.

Villa Adriana Canopo, originally uploaded by uncsuperman.

Villa Adriana Temple of Venus

With apologies to Morbid, who'd already commented, I have taken down a post.

It was about a girl here in Rome and it was kinda personal and I'm not sure if I want to share this one.

I think I wrote about her because I wanted some help. Some assistance with what to think, how to feel. But that's not the way it's supposed to be. I'm not always gonna have someone here to help me decide how to handle situations.

In and of itself, it's a complicated situation, but there's even more to the story than I wrote about. One view of the entire thing is that I'm extraordinarily blessed. Another is that I'm the exact opposite - cursed. It's kinda funny, actually.

Perhaps I'll write about it after the dust has settled. But I think I need to do this one on my own.

Thank You.

I swear to God (I know, I shouldn't do that...), there are days when I feel like the luckiest man that has ever existed. Not in the whole world. Not even in the whole universe.

The Luckiest Man That Has EVER Existed.

Have you ever had that feeling? Walking down the street on one of the most innocent and unassuming days of your life - it hits you. This uncontrollable smile spreads itself across your face. Maybe you even chuckle a little bit to yourself, as if you know this really great secret that the rest of the world is ignorant to. It's weird and it's difficult, if not impossible, to describe.

Sure, it's really frickin cool that when someone asks you where you live, you get to reply "Rome". And it's also really cool that you got a job - teaching English, mind you - precisely one day after starting your job search. God has definitely been watching over me.

But it's more than that. It's more than living in this city so rich with history and art and culture and beauty. No...that doesn't even begin to describe the most basic level of this feeling. It's about knowing - deep down in the bottom of your heart and soul - that you are where you were meant to be at precisely the time you were meant to be there. It's about being homesick, but knowing that given the choice, you wouldn't go back home.

This Day

The ever-insightful JT got me thinking with this post of hers.
Here are my thoughts (well, copied from a book, but whatever)...

"I will live this day as if it is my last.

This day is all I have and these hours are now my eternity. Today I shall embrace my woman with sweet kisses; tomorrow she will be gone, and so will I. Today I shall lift up a friend in need; tomorrow he will no longer cry for help, no will I hear his cries.

I will live this day as if it is my last.

And if it is my last, it will be my greatest monument. This day I will make the best day of my life. This day I will drink every minute to its full. I will savor its taste and give thanks.

I will live this day as if it is my last.

And if it is not, I shall fall to my knees and give thanks."

Well, I had my new "J Holden's IT Girl" all picked out. Hilarie Burton. I'm not sure, but I think it's her eyes. Mesmerizing. She's on a show that's filmed in North Carolina - this could work! Unfortunately for me, I found out today that she's married. Buh.



So then I picked Hilarie's co-star on the show - Sophia Bush. With her, it's definitely those dimples. And she has this sexy voice.



And as you can see, she's a Carolina girl. There are none finer in all the world. And she likes puppies!! Oh I just can't resist this last picture.



Sophia is awesome - I would have her in a heartbeat. I'm still a little partial to Hilarie, though.

Feelin' Good

You know what's funny??

Well, perhaps not funny. Maybe "ironic" is the most accurate choice here.

What's ironic is how some things can be both really awesome and complete torture at the same time. As if this thing, or person, or whatever, has some sort of dual personality. Think about it - is there anything in your life that you love and dread simultaneously?

I have this student. Valeria. Don't say it how you would say it in English. Say it as if you were speaking a Romance language. Roll the "r". A little more emphasis on the "e". Perfect.

She's a Level 1 English student. Which is to say that she's not very advanced. She can form basic structures and converse if the other person uses a limited vocabulary and speaks slowly. She's a university student; whenever she needs to think about something, or look something up, she looks at me and says "Stop" - even if I'm not saying anything. She's hilarious. I have students from all across the spectrum - she is by far my favorite.

I know what you're thinking and you don't need to say anything. Sure, I've got this whole "just go for it" ideology built up here, but that ain't gonna fly in this situation. She's my student and nothing will happen while that holds true.

But this isn't about that. It's probably common opinion that I'm just a big ol' romantic who loves falling in love. Maybe. Or maybe I'm someone who just loves appreciating the things that should be appreciated.

Like the way one of Valeria's front teeth sticks out a little more than the other. Or the way Tara's hair looks like a big bundle of golden scrunchy-thingies when she pulls it back in a ponytail. Or the way Nicole used to kiss me right under my eye, on my cheekbone.

I feel good right now. I felt good riding the train back from work today. I felt proud of myself.

I think I'm gonna like it here.