Sunday, February 16, 2014

I'm desperate for love.

I'm desperate for love. 

There, I said it. 

At 23, I find myself navigating the maze of unconventional partnerships. Perhaps I'm titling them unconventional because they're not the relationships I remember... from high school. I remember love... its simplicity, without any hesitation, elaborate calculations. Attachment... which didn't deem you crazy or psychotic. Desire to see each other at crazy hours and somehow escape parental eyes. 

Lights off in the upstairs bedroom, not mine, I'd slowly make my way to the window far right. He was already waiting by the lamppost across the street. And this happened every night. No reminder texts (I didn't have a cell phone until 12th grade). We spoke on AIM (just remembered my lame screen names), a lot, but these nightly visits were fluid. 

The fights were a part of us and our relationship. Arguments didn't mean it was over. We had different points of view and it was okay to have candid conversations about our feelings.

Though we've separated, we were together for four years, which I realized after moving on. I didn't count days like I do now. When I meet a potential, because really, no one seems to be the one anymore, I give them two months. And all that happens is hurried and hormones. Conversations are so quick because we need to get to know each other in 60 seconds. Or they don't take place at all because they reassure me that if we kiss, it'll be more meaningful. 

Dating. Someone please break this institution down for me. What it means, why it exists, what does getting to know each other mean, is it exclusive, monogamous, would I know if you're seeing others, am I allowed to be jealous, can I text you first, or do I wait on you, how is attachment broken down, can we talk on the phone, how often do we see each other, do I tell my friends, are we friends, can we talk...on the real, what are we... actually? 


Certainly this has taken a toll on me. After telling him, "You're not for me," I felt empowered. I also realized, I've never said that to anyone. You're not for me. But a part of me expected some sort of redemption from his end. Which didn't occur and instead I was faced with, "So, what are we now? Are we friends?" No. 

Nonetheless, another heartbreak. I needed mending and to vent my emotions, not with words, but with emotions. I needed attachment and that's what happened (with someone else). This freaked them out (I'm sincerely apologetic). Rejected, check.

I feel better.

Ya, take a moment to take in what you've just read because I'm also trying to understand how I've healed through a rejecting-rejected process.

I'm capable of vocally rejecting without compromising. But my emotions are feeble. Do I not love myself? Why did I crave attachment from someone I know nothing about?

I'm desperate for love.