Where do I even start?
Maybe a bit of context would be nice.
There’s this boy. I heard about him a long time before I met him. And when I met him, an even longer period of time elapsed before he first spoke to me. Then he liked me but I wasn’t ready. We remained friends, in fact, best friends. And just like any friendship, it was a turbulent roller coaster of great memories and fights, but after a chain of unhappy conversations, we both stopped trying.
Weirdly enough, a few months later, he messaged me. Well actually, his friend sent me a silly text on his phone. ‘DTF?’ I responded ‘Totes Babe’ (sorry, not exactly my finest display of banter). We started chatting again and next thing I know, he had invited me over. I went because well, at that time I was staying my sister’s which was conveniently a 10 minute stroll away from his mate’s place (he was house-sitting). So, why not?
We sat down and finally cleared the air and realised how stubborn and silly we both were. I wouldn’t say we slipped right back into things, because it was different- uni had slightly relieved us from the immaturity of teenage hood.
Next thing I know, we’re strolling down beaches at night. Going shooting-star gazing. Spooning in bed. Leaning in for that first kiss. Going on our first date. Being each other’s first Valentine. The first ‘I love you’. Everything.
But time doesn’t stop. We couldn’t stay like that forever, despite how deliriously happy we both were. The physical distance between us grew. First he stopped house-sitting. Then I left my sister’s. And then finally…I had to go back to uni.
A whole 1,389.7 kilometres away.
At first, it was actually pretty good. Skyping every night. Constant messaging. Visits back and forth. Spending my holidays with him. The works. Basically finding every spare moment to contact one another. We thought we had conquered long distance relationships. Taken on board all the advice available on the internet and that this happiness was permanent. Not just viewed through the rose-tinted glasses of the so-called ‘honey-moon phase’, but we were just right for one another.
One semester passed. And then the second one came.
A week felt like a month. Work
had consumed us, is still consuming us. The insecurities, the past little things that we had solved, consumed my mind with the passing silences.
We were drifting apart, and we both knew it. So I decided to end it. But…I couldn’t.
Why? I don’t know. As soon as it became a reality, I couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept it. We had talked about future plans together, they couldn’t just disappear like that. Right?
In the past instances where we had hypothesised a breakup scenario, it either entailed one party fcking up or simply losing interest. In this scenario, it was neither. We didn’t know how to go back to just being friends. So we decided to try a new thing, scheduling. I can’t say if it’s been helping as it has only been 3 days.
Now welcome to the present. Currently I paint a very bleak image indeed; red-rimmed eyes staring at a screen, numb fingers hesitantly typing away at a blog that’s been inactive for over a year as I struggle to figure out the root cause of my ever fluctuating emotions. Sad? Yes. But I cannot help it. I cannot help feeling guilty, that I’m putting him through this; a first relationship is hard enough, without having to compound it with the struggles of distance. I cannot help feeling insecure, as the little gremlins pop up into my head, in ever increasing instances, to sow seeds of self-doubt. I cannot help feeling incredibly lonely whenever I see my friends happily going on dates, strangers holding hands, and even fictional characters falling in love.
Because from the moment my eyes open in the morning to the moment they close, I cannot see, hear, smell never mind hold the person I love.
I cannot help but crumble under this onslaught of negativity.
How do you continue a relationship that exacerbates every pessimistic thought?
What happens when you’re too stubborn to give up on something that can be so great?
What do you do?
I don’t know.