I’ve now been in love twice. This second time ‘round isn’t going too well. Each man was at one extreme of the spectrum for all things. Describing them reminds me of learning adjectives in a language class. You always learned antonyms together. Where one relationship was calm to the point of dispassion, the other is impassioned to the point of exhaustion.
One of my guilty pleasures is staying up late and listening to disney love songs. I used to listen to them and think that I had that fairy-tale love that they were singing about. Now I listen to them and think how no such thing exist. Once love made me feel strong, now I feel weakened by it. Twice now I can see dark clouds coming in and I am powerless to stop them. Twice now I’m giving a person more time to make it better but nothing’s improving. I can see the end more clearly now because I’ve seen it before.
I just want him to love me. I guess want I really want is him to love me the way I need to be loved. I don’t he’s lying when he says “I love you.” But I do think that means different things to each of us. When things are good, it’s like all the hurt in my life is gone and I feel safe. It feels like all the trouble and stress and pain of life is worth it so that you can experience something so wonderful. But things are only like that for a few moments. And I’m like a junkie vainly chasing that high so I can feel that good again and hoping that this time, maybe this time, it’ll last longer.
But the time in-between those amazing moments is devastatingly heartbreaking or at best emotionally draining. I can’t keep this up forever. Nevertheless, here I am. Waxing poetic late a night, wishing that this could work. I want it to work. But it comes back to me being helpless to do anything. I’m just not good enough, not strong enough, too undeserving to make it work.
I’m sad a lot of the time. No matter how you slice it, no matter how much I love him, that ain’t a good sign. I just wish I could find a place in-between the antonyms. I wish I could find that place with the person I love. I’ve begun to think that that might not be possible.
I never knew our anniversary. We always just celebrated near the end of August because we knew it was around there. A very practical decision since it allowed our anniversary to come at our convenience. We were always practical, logical. Maybe that was the problem. We made our relationship convenient. Maybe it should have been passionate instead.
I messaged him on Facebook. I just wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. Calling on the phone was too personal and had a sense of urgency. Plus there was the possibility that he wouldn’t pick up. A text would be inappropriate because of the length I would need to say what I needed. Mailing a letter was a little over-dramatic. So that left email or Facebook. I chose the latter since he might have changed his email. There’s me being overly practical. I just wanted him to know that it’s not been easy for me. I don’t know if he’s hurting or if he’s passed it. I just wanted him to know that it hurt me to leave him.
I left because there was no fire anymore. I need that. And it was worse being lonely in a relationship than just being lonely on your own. I wanted him to stay up late with me, even though we have work in the morning. I want to be that crazy in love. Or more specifically, I want someone to be that crazy in love with me. I was in love like that, but he wasn’t in love the same way.
I had never been in love before. It was amazing. It was like in the movies. I’ll never forget those memories of when we were in love. And it’s not sad to think of them now. I’ve known love and it has changed me for the better. Because now I will never settle for less. And when I love again, it will be even more brilliant than the time before because now I know how to love and be loved. I can’t wait to fall in love again. That’s not to say that I can’t have fun while I wait for my next great romance.
When I messaged him, I saw that Facebook had saved the only other messages we had sent to each other. It was me asking him out and us exchanging numbers. That was August 19th 2009. Knowing that we started officially dating on a Friday and had dated for a week before he asked me, I now know that our anniversary is/was August 28th. I’m still going to celebrate at the end of every August. Not to celebrate another year of our relationship, but to celebrate the first time I fell in love and to toast to all future loves. Love doesn’t always last forever, but it’s always worth it.
No matter what comfy sweater I put on or how many blankets I snuggle into, I still feel cold. This achingly pervasive chill stays with me and is only made worse at night. I miss the warmth that I once felt and that I know I will not feel again. I’m homesick for a place that doesn’t exist anymore.
I can’t move on. I can’t forget how amazing it felt. I had never felt that way before and I don’t think that I’ll ever really feel exactly that same way again. Even though it makes me feel bereft, I don’t want to forget the good things. And there were so many. The only “bad” thing was that he was stingy with his love. I felt like he had what I wanted, what I needed in his hands but liked playing a game of keep-away.
I know I did that right thing. What we had was already over. But I do miss what we had. I miss it terribly. I miss it so much that it has become an ever-present ache. In my dreams, everything is as it was. I dream of us together, on a couch, watching a movie. I almost wish for blissful ignorance. Because I still love him. And that makes it seem like I could see him again and fall right back into things. What hurts is that I know that’s not true. I still feel like he’s here with me. And then I get a chill when I remember that he’s not.
Just because I left Scott doesn’t mean I want him removed completely from my life. I really want to keep him as a friend. But that’s not possible or fair to him. At least not right now. Maybe, if I feel the same way in a few months, I’ll give him a call. I’m not sure if he’ll even want to talk to me. I hope he’s doing ok after the break-up. He hasn’t tried to contact me at all. I have no idea how he’s doing. It doesn’t sit well with me.
I’m very happy being single. I made the right decision. I just hope he doesn’t hate me for it.
He liked me a lot while we were dating. I didn’t see that at the time. I see it now. Regret. Once in a while, a look or gesture will betray him and I see it. He sees now what he’s done. He let me go to do great things. And I’ll never be his again. And he knows it. He still cares for me. I’m surprised by that amount of caring. It has been years. And he still cares for me. It makes me reexamine the past. I was wrong. I had no idea what was actually happening. He never told me the truth. He didn’t because he thought I was better off without him. He was right; I am. But I didn’t know that at the time. I would have stayed. What he did was selfless. And I was so cruel.
I guess what I want to say is that I’m so sorry and so grateful. Thank you.
I didn’t have a high school graduation. I just stopped coming to school once I knew it was drawing near. I remember that I was at a party the night before everyone had to pick up their gowns from Taft. I told them to just drop me off at home the next morning. I finished high school with two summer classes.
Funny how things repeat themselves. Because here I am taking two summer courses to finish college. But there’s a big difference this time. I feel my college career ending. It took me a year after my last day at Taft to feel like I was no longer a high schooler. I’m happy to take summer school. It gives me one more month to feel like a college student. It keeps me busy enough that I don’t have time to truly grasp that a wonderful chapter of my life has finally come to an end.
But what an amazing journey it has been! I’ve learned that I am capable of more than I could have imagined. I fell in love for the first time. I’ve made so many friends and had so many crazy experiences with them. I’ve learned so much about Bloomington-Normal, only to never live there again.
I’ve always believed strongly that no friendship ends because of distance or time; the love is still there. But I’m not losing my friends by graduating. I losing the intangible things of youth. Cramming on a party bus, pulling an all-nighter to cram for a test, drinking immediately after the aformentioned test, walking through campus, meeting with Professors, the first day of class… I won’t have anymore of those.
I’m glad that I have to take summer classes. Firstly, Loyola is on the lakefront and it’s summertime. Secondly, I like being a student. This way I get to hang on to that for a little longer. I’m just not ready to let go. I wasn’t ready after high school and I’m not ready after college.
I’m definitely going to grad school.
I’ve always said that I never want children. And today I realize why. When I think of having children I simultaneously think of divorce, heartache, stress, and a loveless childhood. I don’t think of a happy family. But I realize that other people do think of a happy family. They think of love and laughter instead of pain and heartache.
I had a thought. A single image popped into my head. Out of nowhere really. I saw Scott holding our child and his smile was the brightest I’ve ever seen. He was so happy. And that thought made me smile. Unthinkingly, without associating that moment with all the usual thoughts of how repugnant pregnancy is or the fear of Scott leaving me because of the new burden a child would bring, I smiled too. I was happy too. I saw how happy our child had made him and it filled my heart up to the brim.
But then fear crept back into my head because that happy moment might never become reality. Scott might not be happy about having a child. Life isn’t a fairytale. We could have a child and instead of having a happy, loving family there could be the disdainful, resentful family life that I’ve always pictured in the past. And I’m terrified. I’m terrified that, in wanting that happy family, I will only be setting myself for tragedy, for failure.
The truth is that I’ve always said that I don’t want children because I’m scared. I’m scared that I will end up in a loveless marriage because of it and that my child will feel as unloved and helpless as I felt. I don’t want that and so to guard against it I said “no” to the whole idea. But today saw what I could potentially be giving up. I saw the happiness that it could bring. I had never seen that before. I realized that all the tantrums and tribulations would be worth it too. I saw that the good outweighs the bad.
Part of me knew how happy it would make Scott. That’s why I would plead for forgiveness when I would tell him that I don’t want to have children. I was afraid that he would resent me for not having them. I knew I would be denying him a happiness that cannot be gotten by any other venture and I was afraid that he would resent me for it. I would be selfishly robbing him of that joy. I would be robbing myself of that same joy. And for what? For nothing. Because of my own cowardice alone.
I’ve realized today that I want children. I can’t believe that I’m even saying that. I don’t even like them. But I know I’ll love mine. I’m honestly a little afraid of myself right now for saying it, but I do want a family with Scott. Not now, mind you. But one day. But I want a happy one. Now I’m afraid that I won’t get it.
My nightmares used to be about monsters, things chasing me or trying to eat me. No matter what I did, no matter how fast I ran, the monster would always be closing in on me. But now that I’m older I don’t have nightmares of monsters. I have nightmares of heartache.
I dream of having already lost Scott. Not of losing him, but of him already being gone from me. Sometimes I’ve cheated on him and other times I’ve broken up with him. I’ve done something so that we can’t be together. There’s no one to fight, no way I can win him back.
Regret and desperation. Those emotions stay with me even after I wake. And it’s worse than the dreams of monsters. The monsters would never catch me. But in these new nightmares, my worst fear is being lived out. It is worse than death by monsters. Death would occur in a moment. But the heartache I feel in those dreams, knowing it will never go away… Life is sometimes more torturous and terrifying than death.
This summer I had to stay at ISU to take two classes. It has been a very dull and lonely summer. All my friends are in other places. I never had this much alone-time in my life and I don’t see why people would want it. I’ve always been perfectly happy without it.
It used to be that the only time I was alone was in the bathroom. Now I’m alone in the apartment, alone walking to work, alone at work… I don’t like it. To fill up more time, I’ve gotten really into dental hygiene. I’ve even started flossing and I brush my teeth after nearly every meal. But most of the time, I just feel useless. I don’t feel like doing anything. Without people around, my batteries drain.
After this summer, I never want to live alone again. Well, I don’t live alone now, but Charlie is at work a lot and we don’t have a super lot in common. So we end up just being alone in the same apartment. I think that’s what he prefers, but not me. I can’t wait to live with Jackie again. And after that, living with Scott.
But right now, I just try to occupy my time instead of enjoying my life. And that sucks. I feel like this summer has been wasted. I’m just here all by my lonesome, wishing I was somewhere else.
I wish I didn’t have one. If this were any other Wednesday, then I wouldn’t be disappointed.