An Emotional Rollercoaster As a Function

I'm currently volunteering in Torres del Paine national park, in Chilean Patagonia (I might actually have just finished my time there, but that's a whole other matter). The first couple of days of the shift I just finished were a hectic mess. The type of shitstorm possibly only when hormones, emotions, the Arctic Monkeys, and character traits (or flaws) get mixed up.

Part I: Increasing / Concave Up (first derivative positive, second derivative positive)
Suggested listening: I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor

I met her on the first night of the ship, sitting outside in the cooking area in camp. I went over to chat with a couple of Americans I remembered from the check-in to the campsite, and she was there too. At some point, an hour or two later, travel plans were discussed, and I mentioned that once I'm done in the park I'll probably head up north to Calafate and Chalten, a few hours away on the other side of the border with Argentina. She said that's exactly where she wants to go, and was hoping to find someone else to hitch-hike there with, as she (understandably) felt iffy about doing it alone. We chatted about it for another while, and as she had split of from her friends and was in no hurry to leave, we agreed to talk about it more the next morning.

The next day and a half were quite blissful. As she set up her tents next to mine, we both realized it's only for appearance's sake, even of those appearances were intended for her subconscious. We spent much of those days together, and it was quite comfortable and easy. The physical part was great, but it felt a bit more than that. The conversation was just very open and honesty, and I told her things I feel most people don't know about me. It felt good.

In retrospect, here's potential misstep number one. I cared. I care easily. While I don't have a trouble with casual sex, or just hooking up, especially if it's been established as that's where we're going. On the other hand, I still care about a woman more after sleeping with her. I generally grow fond of women somewhat easily and carelessly, and allow myself to build houses of cards in my mind. I easily saw myself traveling with her for a week, or maybe even a month, and having a blast. I got excited. It wasn't the first time this has happened to me, and probably won't be the last. Honestly, it's not that I don't want to care. I'd rather care than be disconnected, and feel it's a huge part of being human, and being me. On the other hand, maybe I need to be more gradual or reserved about it. I can't say I'm sure.

I remember telling her that "it won't always be this fun and easy, but we should try to remember how this feels now, for when the going gets harder." Fore, meet shadow.

Part II: Increasing / Concave Down (first derivative positive, second derivative negative)
Suggested listening: Fluorescent Adolescent

The evening of the next day, two Israeli girls came by with Jungle Speed. As you've probably never heard of it, it's an addictively fast card game, based on pattern matching and quickness of hand. As they played, I came and went, as I was busy baking bread, of all things - apparently I'm not bad at it. I noticed she was pretty friendly, possible flirty, with another American who joined the card game.

Here comes my second error. I let jealousy rear its ugly head. Even at the moment, I could tell myself on how many levels that's absolutely absurd. I've only know this woman for two days - as intensive as they might be, two days are still forty-eight hours. Beyond that, she was being excited and bubbly and nice, which are some of the qualities that led me to like her at first place. Further, when I think about it rationally, I'm very much opposed to jealousy. I truly want to give an open (or perhaps even poly) relationship a try, both to see how I like it, and perhaps to learn to work through some of these faults of mine. I'm not sure I could or should be the be-all-end-all object of someone's desires, and feel I have enough emotion to sustain more than one relationship.

I caught myself feeling it, and getting a little bit more touchy-feely than I should have. Once I realized what I'm doing, I excused myself, and recomposed. I realized I'm being ridiculous, and noted in my head to talk to her about it tomorrow. I felt that with how comfortable and easy our conversation has been, maybe she could help me work through it, and call me out on my nonsense. (You could argue this was another mistake, and I should have dealt with it by myself, but I believe in sharing and dealing together.)

Later that night, the other park rangers and us played quite a bit of cards. We also might have not been entirely sober. After several rounds of 'come-mierda' (the local version of 'asshole', played with the Spanish cards), and more drinking of all kinds, I was getting ready to call it a night. I could blame my possible lack of sobriety, but I'd be giving myself the easy way out - I mentioned to her that I want to talk to her about something, and that she should remind me tomorrow. I imagine we can all see where this is going: she insisted I tell her tonight, I wasn't wise enough to insist otherwise, and I told her. She seemed very understanding, and said she did notice I was acting oddly earlier. She told me that we'll talk tomorrow, and I should go to sleep if I'm tired, and she'll be over soon.

Part III: Decreasing / Concave Down (first derivative negative, second derivative negative)
Suggested listening: Snap Out Of It

It rained all night.

I woke up in my tent around six in the morning, alone, with my glasses still on. I remembered that I read for a while after getting back in, with my light still on, as I thought she might not have a light, and it would help her find her way in. Naïve up until the last moment.

As I woke up, the range of options ran through my head. Did she sleep in her tent? But her sleeping bag was in mine. Did she end up crashing in the house? I hope she didn't sleep on the floor. But where did she sleep? I stopped dealing with that train of thought, but nonetheless didn't fall back asleep. An hour or so later she came in, and told me she slept in the bed with another one of the guys. And made out with him.

I can't say I was angry. I truly wasn't. I was hurt though. After pondering it for a while, I realized it was because it came exactly after I told her about my slight jealous streak. I showed a vulnerability, and instead of receiving support, I got the exact opposite. I'm very open and candid, apparently at times to a fault.

She took a walk, and so did I, end I ended up talking about it with one of the Israelis from the night before. The Israeli was very kind and listened, and gave some well-needed advice, until at some point she came back. We went off to talk. She was very, very sorry, and talked about how she hurts before she gets hurt, how she says she hates drama, but just created a load of it, how she felt we were just hooking up, and more... I listened, and I understood, especially when she kept talking about how crazy she is, and her sexual history... I was hurt, and understanding, but I wasn't angry. I tried to understand, and as awkward as it was, I never asked her to leave or disappear,.

I talked to the other rangers, and they implored me to just put it behind it and leave it be. I'm pretty sure they also didn't understand about how I was so un-angry about the whole thing; it was certainly not the Chilean way to handle it.

Part IV: Decreasing / Concave Up (first derivative positive, second derivative negative)
Suggested listening: 505

I guess I might be somewhat of an emotional masochist, as I still saw myself traveling with her afterwards. It would have never been what it could have been at first, but I still saw it as being fun. I certainly would have learned something about myself from it.

The days afterwards were increasingly less awkward, as eventually one of her original friends also made it and stuck around with us for a few days. Apparently she's not the only source of drama - he broke up with his girlfriend of two years on the trail, and left her and her two friends. We played cards, cooked together, and generally lived together for those few days, and at some point it became less and less awkward.

It's interesting that it didn't make me run, or hate her, or get vengeful. I'm happy about that about myself. I feel that if we each only got one chance in life, nothing could ever succeed, and that it she's still a very interesting person. Crazy, but interesting.

Addendum I
I'll probably write about it more separately, but I've worked very hard over the past few years to develop an inner locus of control. It suits me incredibly well when doing things by myself - I don't think I would have successfully rehabbed from two knee surgeries (another topic for another time) if I didn't fully and truly believe that enough hard work will get me through. With emotional matters, though, the line is finer, as to whether or not that's positive or negative. Rationally, I understand this isn't my fault, at least not wholly and entirely. On the other hand, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that maybe had I not had that jealous streak, or had I waited to talk about it, or had I not cared, who knows where we'd be. That's life, though, isn't it?

Maybe I'm hard on myself so other people don't have to be? I wish I knew.

Addendum II
Up until now, I wasn't sure I'll post it.  It's highly ridiculous and deeply personal, and exposes more character flaws than I entirely feel comfortable with. I do want to learn and grow from it, and I felt it was a good writing experience, so on it goes. A week later, I guess the best way to describe how I feel about it would be to paraphrase the ending of Ocean's Eleven: I'm not sad about it, but I'm sure as shit ain't happy about how it turned out. It is a rather ridiculous story though, and in retrospect quite hilarious, so at least we've got that going.