I am sitting aboard a cruise ship and am supposed to be relaxing in paradise, but all I feel right now is anger, mixed with hurt and sadness and remorse and longing.
If you guys have followed the saga of my love life (I’ve written about it here-and-there in previous posts), you’ll know that at this time, I am trying to get over a guy with whom I shared a deeply intense emotional bond, if only for a month. He is unaware of my change in sentiments, as I have yet to reconnect with him, and I don’t think he reads my blog, and if this blog post finds his eyes, then it’ll serve as a springboard for further conversation when I return home. Or maybe he’ll read this and be repelled and never want to speak to me again. I hope that’s not the case, as I feel like this deserves at least one more heart-to-heart conversation, and I rather enjoy those conversations with him, and it’ll be good for us to find closure from each other. Anyway, onward.
I’m not gonna go into dirty details of what happened, and I’ll leave out his name to respect his privacy. At the moment, I am feeling a bit heartbroken. I am also really mad at the situation— I’m mad at him for leading me on, I’m mad at myself for getting carried away with the fantasy, I’m mad at God for putting this great human into my life only to rip him away. I’m so mad that I don’t know what else to do but write about it. Perhaps this piece should be housed in my private diary, but I hope you guys can glean some valuable lessons from my experience, and know not to repeat my mistakes.
Let me be clear— I do not regret meeting this guy. He was a gift in my life, my first experience of something real with a man, and he taught me what healthy communication looks, feels, and sounds like. I helped him, too. We changed each other’s lives for the better. For that, I am grateful.
This time apart from him has been purposeful and illuminated a lot of my blind spots that were clouded by feelings of lust and longing. My eyes are wide open now, and I see things with clarity. The truth makes me angry. I fell for an unavailable man, and when he became functionally available, things changed for him. Our short-lived romantic relationship entered a new season, and in this season, he is a free man in every sense of the word. Beholden to no one, responsible for no one’s feelings but his own, and not committed or tied down to anyone as he embarks on a quest of self-discovery, reflection, and healing. This is a journey he must trek without me, because I will only hold him back. I don’t want him to feel stalked by my lingering shadow. I care about him enough to let him go. But can you blame me for feeling hurt and rejected? I thought once he was free, he would be free to build something with me. He doesn’t want that, is nowhere near ready for that, and I find myself in a very different place. I have wanted a relationship for a long time… I’ve been ready for one, but I haven’t had the good luck to meet anyone worthy of my love. I thought I had found that person in him, but I guess God had different plans. He placed us in each other’s lives for good reason, we had to meet for necessary change to happen. I was the catalyst that got him out of a toxic relationship. He was a model for future healthy relationships. He had to show me what that looked like, even if our relationship never extended beyond friendship.
Forgive me if I felt led on when he told me:
“We’re dating. We’re seeing each other.”
“Our kids would be adorable.”
“You’d look really cute pregnant.”
“Thinking about the future, here’s how I operate.”
Future, future, future. I thought we were building a foundation for something greater. Things changed for him, and now I am left stranded on an island, nursing my brittle heart. I am okay, don’t worry. I have ample coping skills to lean on, plenty of other people who love me, a therapist who will help me through this.
Here’s the rub. He told me he didn’t want to lose me. He expressed how grateful he was to have met me. He said all the nice-sounding things— how brilliant and talented and beautiful and smart I was. That there was nothing more I could do to make him like me more. And yet, he doesn’t want to be with me. (I AM UNLOVABLE CORE BELIEF, TRIGGERED.) His reasons for being unavailable are 100% valid— I can’t fault him for that. But he also told me he didn’t see himself in a long-term, committed relationship with me, that he never had that intuition when he first met me. Maybe because we aren’t functionally compatible. He’s an introvert, I’m an extrovert, he thinks I may talk too much and that we’ll drive each other crazy. I think that’s a cop-out— that’s a small thing to navigate, and I can be a good listener, I can hold my tongue, I’m good at reading people and can give people space when necessary. I can respect boundaries, I’ve learned the hard way. And now, I’m learning how to set my own boundaries.
What are my boundaries?
Well, if he wants to just be my platonic friend, he can’t have it both ways. He can’t kiss me, make love to me, or hold my hand. In public, or in private. He can’t call me sweet pet names, he can’t expect me to act like a girlfriend when I’m not. And I don’t think he expects those things, but I need to make it crystal clear to him, because then I’ll just continue being led on with no promise of any sort of future commitment. I’m not gonna waste my time on someone who doesn’t want me back. And I truly wish him to be happy and free… he deserves that much, especially after all he’s been through. In spite of everything that went down, I still care about him. I also deserve what I want— love with the right partner. I have come to terms with the fact that he is not that person, at least not in the near future. And maybe, not ever. I’m okay with that, I’ve made my peace.
I just ran into my brother on deck 15, and he scared the living hell out of me when he suddenly appeared by my side as I was venting out this post. I gave him a quick spiel about my present feelings of anger, and this is what he said:
“As hard as this may be to hear, this guy love-bombed you. That’s what happened.”
Love-bomb: showering a person with love, affection, adoration, laying it on thick very early on and very intensely, then quickly withdrawing and doing a 180 and disappearing like none of it ever happened.
That’s right, guys. I’ve been LOVE-BOMBED. It’s happened to me before, and I should have recognized the signs from early on. Why am I so smart in some ways and so freakin’ stupid when it comes to romantic relationships? When will I ever learn?
To be fair, I don’t think he was intentionally love-bombing me or trying to toy with my feelings. He was probably confused, as well. And the circumstances led to this outcome– his withdrawal– which was inevitable. Of course this was gonna happen. I can’t fault him for it. I am entitled to my feelings, yes, but I can’t be mad at him for changing his mind, which is in his right.
Still. I respect myself enough to walk away from this relationship that is hurting me more than it is helping. We had agreed to stay friends, to remain in each other’s lives, to continue to help each other and learn from each other… but I never stopped to ask myself whether that was a good idea. Is it really healthy to remain friends with someone I used to harbor romantic feelings for, but is no longer interested in me that way? Is that good for my mental health and stability?
I never leave the door half-open for someone who has broken my heart, on principle. No-contact is a tried-and-true method of healing, the fastest way out of heartbreak. With him, I was willing to bend that rule. He is a special friend, someone who changed my life for the better, and a part of me feels indebted to stay with him, even though he hurt me.
This anger I’m feeling right now… it’s a sign from God to walk away. At least for now. I told him that I don’t want to lose him, and he told me that he doesn’t want to lose me, but those are just words. I need to do what’s best for myself in this moment. And that is an ample amount of space from him. Not only for him, but for myself. I need to heal from this. And I vow to never, ever let this happen again. I won’t go for “high-risk” guys who are navigating rapid changes in life that render them completely and utterly emotionally unavailable. As much as I want to help others, I can’t do it at the expense of my own well-being. Look at what’s happening to me now— I am hurt. I am not broken, nothing can break me, but I am hurting. I need to heal.
I will always cherish the time we had together, it was a gift, and I will remember him forever. Truly. (I smell a goodbye poem brewing). But space is what I need, and I need to continue on my quest for love, only with men who can love me back in the way I deserve. People who aren’t exiting toxic relationships, people who don’t love-bomb, people who know how to take it slow-and-steady. Goodbye, former lover. I wish you well, and hope you find the healing you’re looking for. If you really need me, I will be there— I still care for you. I am not abandoning you, I am not leaving forever… it’s just goodbye for now, and see you later, when I’m in a better place to be your friend.
…
9:34pm
Had a bit of time to sit on this post. It had emotional truth to it, reflecting the heat of my raw emotions that beset me earlier today. After a couple steam room sessions to decompress, good food at the buffet, and time spent with friends and family, I return to this post with some revisions.
I came across an Instagram post just now with a caption that elucidated the meaning of love.
“Love is simpler than we make it. We think love is complicated, measured in grand gestures, possessions, or words. But in its purest form, love is about kindness, about being there, about giving and receiving warmth. Love is in the small things: being nice to someone, a hug when you’re lonely, or even the way you hold yourself when no one else is around. That’s not weakness, that’s strength. That’s self-love. Maybe we’ve just forgotten what love really means. It isn’t something to chase it’s something to live, to share, and to give… starting with ourselves. Real love doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s presence. It’s kindness. It’s connection.”
I have to say, reading that brought tears to my eyes. Presence. Kindness. Connection. This is the kind of pure love that I shared with the man I am trying to get over. I am not talking about romantic love… this kind of love is easy, simple, and exists on the plane of the soul. We connected, at least that’s how I perceived it, and I still want to love him as his dear friend. Even now, thinking about him, I have let go of the anger. I only feel deep fondness for the person he is. I hold him in the highest esteem– he is not perfect, and neither am I. We both made mistakes in this, and I got hurt as a result. I forgive him, it wasn’t all his fault. I own my feelings, I am responsible for my healing, and I stand by the fact that I need a little time apart from him to move on from the physically intimate facet of our relationship. While that may be over, it doesn’t mean our friendship has to be. I want him to know that I am not leaving him, I am not abandoning him, I am just caring for him in a different way. I look forward to many more memories with him, as friends and kindred spirits. I enjoy having deep intellectual conversations with him about yoga philosophy and dance and art. I enjoy learning from him. I appreciate him as a human.
And, if he wants nothing to do with me ever again, I will still love him from afar and send him light through my prayers.
To whom this I write for, thank you for being a presence in my life. Thank you.
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