I’ve stared at a blank white screen for about 30 minutes and it felt like only seconds until I snapped back into my dark, early morning reality. It was 4:46 in the morning, and I’ve a sharp, throbbing pain behind my eyes from crying all night long. I couldn’t sleep, but as my vision oscillated for the nth time on my ceiling, I had a burning desire to chronicle my second biggest heartbreak – to the curious, and to those minds and hearts that have lived and survived through their own heartbreaks, my misery will appreciate your company.
It has been three long years since I’ve dated and not for the lack of trying have I not been given a chance to date again. The advent of facebook made connections easier, but it seemed more complicated than that. Human nature seemed to have been equipped with the default delusion to ‘have’ what they can control. The most of those I know, they took connections for granted thinking they had a plethora of people to choose from their virtual social networks. It seemed that only the provocative and the shirtless men got the best attention. I’m willing to bet my car if I wasn’t right to say that facebook has extended the superficial psyche.
Shirtless guy in his underwear and chiseled pectorals and abdominals – boom! 150 comments and 200 likes in 30 minutes. I clicked ‘like’ myself. ;)
I was never a hottie, so I relied on my charm to get me connected. It has been a dry spell for the longest time that in the days where I’ve wanted companionship more than ever, I’d close my eyes and say I’d take even the flings, or like the past relationships I’ve had where I get hurt in the end --- ‘just give me activity’, I’ve said many times.
I’ve a big mouth. I got what I wished for.
In my many attempts to find a connection, after about hundreds of persisting ‘hellos’ and the winking emoticons, where combined would’ve probably seemed like I was in seizure, I felt like a facebook man-slut. I’ve always been a stubborn kid, I know when I want something and I’ll get hurt trying and getting it (again, my big mouth). But that didn’t seem so bad when I realize my circle of friends had gone through the same phase. Except that some of them easily succeeded in as short as months. When I got my break after 3 years.
In one fateful message, I asked ‘You okay?’ and that’s where this all begins.
He was vocal and was very public of his social concerns. The prospect of his open life was very attractive to me since I’ve always kept the details of my buzz mostly on the down low. That got a lot of attention, including mine best. He had a good and free spirit and was easy to gravitate to when you’re as uptight as I am.
When you haven’t been in the game that long, every little thing that happens is as amplified as your hormones when you were 16. That first night we got together, it seemed like every second was magical, and the conversations were like the chick flicks you just can’t get enough of. We held hands and I felt electricity again – like an old car with a new battery, I was on ignition and vibrating. He was the sweetest. The kisses were unstoppable. The words fly out of our mouths without premeditation. I’d take it slow, but in actuality, when I’ve got hold of what was magic to me again, I was weak and relinquished just about everything and gave in to those little moments.
Infatuation ensued, and my relentless romanticism made me just give in and not care about the consequences. Naturally, that had to bite me in the ass at the endpoint, because the exceptions – really - mostly happen only in the movies. My best friend was right about one thing – my attachment got way too strong on this one, so much so that I’m writing this at 5 in the morning.
Like a light bulb, the romance that shone a little too bright in the beginning easily busts as it nears its end. The texts were fewer, the conversations got shorter, the excuses got plenty, and the cold front was just about to come in. If I were smart, I would’ve questioned that right away – but I thought of it as something as all I’ve got at the moment so I‘d nurture it in any way I can, even when it’s dying.
The moment of truth finally came. It was the day where rationality took over deluded romantics. It was a day after my birthday, and, another day after that. It was a short cold front, then sub-zero came in completely that day when he completely ignored my texts and calls. A stranger kept on texting the same day threatening me, quite tastelessly, on how he’d find the right moment to take him away from me. I have questions still left unanswered.
I was stubborn, still had my pride so I drove over there to see what gives. I’ve gotten the privilege of getting to know some of his family. When I got there he wasn’t home. I’ve asked questions that just put all the puzzle pieces to the right fit. He was probably on his way to another date so there was nothing left for me to do but leave, and confront him with a message since he’s ignored my calls the whole day.
He replied saying he couldn’t see me anymore. It wasn’t much a revelation considering it was already happening. All I wanted was proper closure and he couldn’t even pick up a call. I had to park on the side of the street because his audacity was incapacitating. Just as the good stuff was amplified in this entire relationship, so is the pain. Several grueling texts later, I still couldn’t get it in his head that his approach was very wrong. At that point, I was aiming for education on how he shouldn’t be hurting people the way he’s hurting me. His naivety immerses him in the delusion that he’s doing the right thing and even suggests that I’ll be thanking him one day.
Chances are, he can be right – but I’m 7 years older than this little boy. (Oh did I forget to say that? Lol)
Evidently, the pain continues as these words are being typed. The length of the relationship, nor the age gap aren’t the points to ponder on in this quest of peace of mind, but rather, the education and the reminder that anybody you give your heart and your life to can crush it without a scintilla of concern. Even at the precipice of losing your pride, and showing them your vulnerability – these people are the best candidates to KILL you emotionally. But why is it, that despite the strong, cycling, prevalent, and empirical evidences, we continue to love and take the chances at the risk of our sanity?
It appalls me, that despite my understanding of human nature and the complexities of one’s ego, it had to be my most special person that pushes the boundary to make more forms of hurtful actions.
It confuses me on how the warmest kisses transform into cold icicles piercing through you as you lose blood contemplating on how one is capable of such hurt in that short amount of time.
It kills me that you don’t care that you’re hurting me, and you even continue to hurt me more by not ending this right.
I write this document principally as an outlet, never for hate. I’m sure many of you have gone through worse things, but I know there is and will be wisdom learned in every story. I’d like to give my share. I’m a living reminder that maybe sometimes, the cynicism could do you good – but I stand stern in saying that giving up on love, is truly giving up on life and yourself. So long as you live, it’s impossible to switch it off.
I don’t know what I’ll get out of this, but this is by far the closest thing I have to closure from someone who isn’t talking to me anymore. It feels good. And now I’ll finally be able to sleep...