Guess who did her problem set last night? It was me. I did my problem set last night. I'm such a good student. Now I have an hour before my class starts, and I can do whatever I want.

So.

Let me analyze the dynamics of my relationship with DD. 

Now, as we know, DD is 27 years old. I will be 21 in 3-ish months (which is a whole other freak-out for another time), but after that, he turns 28 on March 11 (see I know this, I'm so great) (3 and 11 are both prime numbers, see), so it doesn't make that much of a difference. So, as we can see, that's quite the age difference. By the time I was born, he was in the second-to-last of Piaget's stages! And the last stage isn't even universal! Far be it from me to subscribe to something so normative and limiting as the stage theory, but it does give you an idea of where we stand in relation to each other. If I were a younger woman, I would be quite concerned as to the propriety of this relationship, and in fact, I would discourage it with all that I had in me. However, I'm a consenting adult, and I can make my own semi-rational decisions, so the manipulative/toxic aspect shouldn't be a problem in my case. Right? Hmm. Now that's a question. Really, it does make me wonder. Should he be going after women his own age? He may be a pedophile. After all, I do look like I'm about twelve. And I seem very sweet and innocent and naive, so maybe he thinks he can manipulate me. That's part of my charm, I suppose, but it does leave me susceptible to creeps (why else would I get hit on every single time I wear my hair in pigtails?). So this all is fairly suspicious, don't you think?

Even if we assume that we're both of age to make our own decisions, there's another aspect to this whole age thing. You see, we aren't in the same stages of our lives. I'm still an immature and puerile undergraduate, dancing my way through life with frippery and flamboyance (and plenty of purple prose). He's a Serious and Stoic grad student, who is probably in a brooding Bukowski phase. I don't think he's read Camus, but if he did, I'm sure he would find a Deep Connection. I think he's past the Kerouac-fuck-all-I'm-a-Libertarian mindset, thank goodness, but there is more to come, and I'm not sure his ideas would gel with mine. Oh, but then again, I do probably think that I'm more mature than I am. I mean, here I am disparaging a point of view that is no doubt very valid. I mean, I went through the phase myself in my teenage years. And they do say that only fools think they're wise. Well, I don't think I'm wise, but that just goes to prove that I am indeed a fool, doesn't it? Because I'm probably subconsciously trying to prove that I'm not a fool by saying that I am a fool. Which, you know, is okay. I'm fine with admitting how much I have yet to go as long as I get to learn some of what life has to offer. 

Where was I?

Right. Okay, so you see, we are in different parts of our lives. He's getting ready to settle down and find a job and all that. I'm still worrying about running out of swipes on my meal plan. Honestly, it sounds like one of these fanfictions.

Love Burns Red and Black: When a bored sociologist meets an enchanting young university student, his life changes in just one burst of light. Now what was right seems wrong, and what was wrong seems right. But will they find their happy ending, or will it just be one more castle on a cloud? (Archive warning: NSFW content)

Like. What are we supposed to do with this? What if he gets a job in Wisconsin and wants me to move there to be with him? I'm sorry, but your dick isn't that good! There's no way I'm changing my life's direction for something as insignificant as romance. (Not that it's completely set in stone, but circumstances are going to have to be a hell of a lot more dire than some dude who wants me to warm his bed while he goes to pursue his own dreams.) So there's that. And even if we did end up in the same place, what then? I still have to go to grad school, and get a job, and learn so much, and it's a bit early to tie myself down, isn't it? I know I'm not ready, not mature enough in any way to forge a very serious commitment at the moment. There's so much I need to do and learn and be before I can count myself as a Real Mature Adult member of society. So I need to figure that out, and I'm not sure a relationship like this would help me do that. But who knows?

Okay! So that's the age factor. Now let's deal with the more pressing problem: he doesn't seem to see me as his equal. 

Yes, yes, that's quite a strong statement, I know. But for cases like this, strong statements are where it's at. He seems to think that by virtue of age and experience, he's somehow the dominant member of the relationship, and can feel free to exercise his headship over little subordinate clause me. I guess some people are into that sort of dynamic (like in those fanfictions I had the misfortune of reading awhile back) (seriously I am going to be upset about this forever- my children Wouldn't Do That), but you know that I'm overly invested in equality, and I don't think I could accept a power imbalance of that sort. (Author's note: I almost wrote "inbalance" which is So Interesting, because it goes to show exactly how productive the in- prefix is, and how the /n/->[m] sound change is so integrally phonological and not morphological) Right. So, I don't think I could ever be a not-dominatrix (what even is that? A ~Dom?), and it would totally creep me out to try. Like, just because I like bottoming in bed doesn't mean I like being under your thumb in real life! For fuck's sake. The patriarchy really does need to go away already. But like, it seems like he wants to be The Man in the relationship, which is sexist garbage, and I'm so not down with that. I don't support traditional gender roles, you know! How could I, when I experience attraction to multiple genders myself? We have to be partners, or else we're nothing. And if he keeps this up, it really looks like we're going to be nothing.

As a sort of addendum to the previous point, I feel like he wants me to be his Pixie Dreamgirl. I understand that I may seem quirky and ditzy and dreamy and waifish and all that, but there's much more to me than just sunshine and daisies. I'm not going to Dance Into Your Life to Change It Forever or anything like that, and I'm definitely not going to die or get amnesia or undergo a terrible accident to fuel a tired and sexist plot point. I don't want to be one of these people who's like "oh I have so much depth You Don't Understand" because I'm not sure I do; in fact I think I might be pretty shallow. But I don't want to be reduced to a two-dimensional archetype either. And here's the thing. Even if I didn't mind this (for whatever reason), it wouldn't even work. I'm not always going to be happy, or witty, or fun to hang out with. Sometimes, I won't even be able to speak to you. Logistically speaking, I can't keep waltzing through a meadow of flowers with you forever, because that's not the type of person that I am. It's horribly reductionistic to pin that trope on anyone, and heaven knows I probably fit it better than most, but it just plain doesn't work, and to try and fit it on me anyway is just silly. 

On the other side of the coin (sort of), there's the fact that he's trying to get into my head with regard to my emotions now. Like, who even does that? Well, I guess they do in literature. And in theory, I like the idea. Just, you know, not as applied to me. I don't want to talk about my family, or my mental illness, or my eating disorder, or any of that stuff. Does it matter that I'm "slow to trust" or "timid" or anything like that? No! You're not my therapist, so stop trying to get jiggy with my headspace. If you wanna talk about your problems, I'm all ears, but for goodness' sakes, let's leave me out of it. 

Okay, I guess I should address this- I do know that for relationships, people should be emotionally available and open and trusting and all that stuff, and I advocate it, but I don't wanna do it. Which is part of the reason why I don't think I should be in a relationship yet. I'm emotionally immature, and I'm just going to end up hurting someone (maybe myself) if I go on like this. I need to fix myself before I can do anything serious. Oh. Right. So I'm the one who needs to fix me, not you. That's not your job. Love is nice (I guess), but it's not the panacea for all of life's ills that so many people seem to think it is. You be supportive while I work on myself. Yeah?

(Except that's all conjectural because I don't want anyone to be around while I work on myself) (but anyway)

I think he might accept this, though. Because I told him. But then again, who knows if it sank in or not? Maybe he was just agreeing with me. I guess the only way to know for sure would be to continue hanging out with him to see what he does (which sounds horribly clinical and not at all nice), and it seems that that's happening as we speak. So maybe I'll come to an answer sooner than I thought!

Overall, it's not a bad relationship. Heaven knows I've been in worse. The weird, gross parts of me like to be kissed and cuddled, and he's not a bad conversation partner when he's not being unbearably pompous (which, granted, is a lot of the time). I could definitely do worse. But could I do better? That's the question, and it's one that I can't answer yet. So I guess all that's left is to see which way the wind blows!