I watch my sisters experience love, and I wonder about their relationships. How do they hold on? I know there are things they dislike about their partners, no one is that perfect for one another (except, perhaps, my grandmother and grandfather), but I see them so happy, so full of love for their beloved.
I wonder when I will find that. I have been dating someone that I do love for two months and yet I feel as though I am trapped more than I am in love. Things have become so mixed up, so confused, and I feel as though I will drown in this relationship rather than flourish.
I have looked for an excuse in every relationship to leave it–I know I have commitment issues. I keep looking for different avenues in my mind that will allow me to come to terms as to why I am the way that I am, but I continue to come up empty; as empty as I feel.
I love her, but I don't want her. She makes me happy, yet unbearably sad. I don't want to speak with her all the time, but shouldn't I?
I see my family in all of their relationships and in all of their love, and yet all I can think is, "Do I truly want that?" I'm not sure if I'll ever want anyone the same way they do. I crave a love that deep, one that would lead me to marriage, but I can't find it–and so I begin to question if I truly want it.
My sisters have their partners, and they seem so happy and in love. They live with them, share their lives with them. When I imagine myself like that with a partner, in that situation, I don't feel joy. I feel as though I would be stuck, stuck in the monotony of a relationship. Stuck in the monotony of a life less lived than one I would experience single.
And is that so horrible? I have been conditioned to believe that I need someone, anyone, but do I? I don't think I do. I like being alone, granted not for longer periods of time, but I enjoy my solitude. I don't enjoy when that solitude is interrupted. I find solace in the silence, in the echoes of what could be instead of what is. My imagination craves more than my reality. I live in this fantasy of perfection that can never be achieved.
Sometimes I feel as though I am being stepped on in my relationship. I am withheld from saying certain things, sharing certain ideas, and being more myself because that would lead to greater heartbreak and greater misfortune than being with this other person would. Sometimes I fill that space with meaningless conversation, but at some point I just want her gone–I want my solitude back. I enjoy her warmth, her smile and her abundance of love, but I can't have it for myself. She can't make me better just by being around me; I am as broken as I will always be, and no amount of love, from any person, will fix that. I've come to terms with that, come to face the facts of my own shattered being, but how can I make someone else come to terms with it? Why should I? Shouldn't my brokenness be faced alone? Perhaps not. Perhaps there is someone out there who would take it all, and instead of trying to fix it, would rather break me more, and be in the cracks instead of being the glue.
If that is so, then I have not found them yet. Someone to share my dark fantasies with, someone to share my deepest thoughts and regrets with. Then I ponder if that is even someone I could love back. If I share it, and they revel in it, wouldn't that mean we were both too unhealthy for one another? But isn't that what I want? Someone who is just as broken and is okay with being broken with me?
I feel as though right now, in this relationship, I am being manipulated. At first, I didn't think anything of the small gestures or the simple sayings, but as time passed, and still passes, I wonder how much of it is real, and how much of it is simply her not wanting to be abandoned. And whose fault would it be, if we were to end our tryst? Would it be mine, for I am the one that wants to leave? Would it be hers, for making me feel so trapped? Would it be both of us, in our simple inability to match together so well?
I was happy, for a time, with her. I still am, on occasion, but it is beginning to be worth more than the effort I am putting in. I am withdrawing, I know that, but what else am I to do? I love her. I seem to be perfect for her, but she is not perfect for me. As I've said, I feel as though I cannot be myself when I am with her. Will I offend her? Will I cause her to speak of me to others as though I am yet another problem?
I get the feeling sometimes that even she knows it is about to end; but I know that I will be the one to end it. Does that make me a bad person? No, I don't think so, but I cannot continue to go along and pretend to be happy. I'm not. I am weary of texting her, weary of talking to her, of being talked to by her. I want my solitude back; it drifts just out of focus before I can grasp it. There is unfettered access to her, and this should be a good thing… but is it? Won't I just be leaving her, as so many have done before (or so she has told me)? Even so, I know we will remain friends. Above all else I know this.
I should not remain in this relationship, not when I feel like this. Dread should not be the emotion that follows when she reaches out to me. I used to write her letters, and now I write her texts. I used to share my life with her, but now I share silence. She speaks to me, but I do not often reply, rather lending a moan or grunt in response, and I know she deserves more.
She deserves someone she can share a future with, one with a family and the sun and the happiness of being together. I don't want this. Yes, I want a family, but I don't want to be near my own. I want to get away from my home and that is exactly where she wants to stay. I want to leave behind all that I grew up with, and she does not. How are we supposed to plan a future when we want vastly different things?
Even now, we speak of our wishes and wants, and they differ so greatly that I can't help but wonder if she, too, feels as though there is a gap that cannot, or will not, be bridged. I refuse to compromise my own desires for the sake of another. I have done so before and it nearly destroyed me. I want to leave, to move, to have my own life and experiences away from my family, and she wants the opposite. She wants to be near, to take care of them and love them, but I don't. Frankly, I don't like her family, nor do I think they particularly like me.
So I come back: am I destined to be unhappy?
No. I am destined to want with abandon. I want more than I can get, but I also will not settle, so where does that leave me?
I believe it leaves me with this: life. This is my life and I shall decide how I want to live it, and while that may make some unhappy and some uncomfortable, that is their problem, not my own. I cannot allow myself to be stuck in the same place, the same routine, the same arena of hate and love and want and distaste as I have for the past 21 years. If it happens, where will I truly be? Unhappy, that's where.
So I will let go. Not now, as this would be bad timing, but soon. I will let go because if I don't, I will just be leading her, and perhaps some small part of myself, on. I will just be bringing both of us to a place of unhappiness and unfulfilled dreams, perhaps for her, but most certainly for me.