All Good Things...
Aug. 13th, 2002 05:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azuriteIf you've read the title, you know what's coming. I shouldn't even have to say it... so I'm not going to. Today is Tuesday, August 13th, and it is 5:38pm. I am now single.
Since the weekend of April 27th, I was considered "taken" -- that is, I was going out with an intelligent, considerate, generous, sweet, and funny man of 19 years by the name of Joe.
In the beginning, I wasn't sure if I was in love with him... but I certainly liked the way I felt around him, and the way he made me feel-- about myself, my surroundings, and about everything.
In the past three months our relationship kept climbing those stairs to a new level... and we sort of reached that level today. Shortly thereafter, Joe looked downright uncomfortable... and I asked him flat out what was wrong. After what we had done, I had 75% of me screaming that if he didn't want to continue, then that meant he was going to -as I had feared the night previous, coming up with excuses as to why I didn't want to do The Deed- "use me and lose me." It had been a long 3 months of using and losing, and I know he could have done it in a far less expensive manner.
But that's not what happened at all. He'd gotten to the stage in our relationship where "the spark was gone," and the love he felt for me wasn't romantic in nature anymore. I appreciated -and still do- his honesty. He told me that his first relationship failed because both he and his then-girlfriend didn't want to admit to the failures in their relationship-- wanted to keep going for the sake of making out. But he appreciated and honored me as a friend so much that he told me this, and that he didn't want that happening to us. He'd been thinking about it for a few weeks now, trying to rekindle whatever he'd originally felt, but without success.
I tried not to cry, tried to ignore him holding me for a good twenty minutes. I finally got up off the couch, grabbed my shirt, and stalked to the bathroom. I looked like a wreck. I brushed my teeth till they bled (so what, I have sensitive gums) and then wiped my face clean. 'Crying is a weakness,' I told myself, brushing and setting my hair, and putting on my glasses. He was out there waiting for me when I came out-- I wasn't surprised. I would have been upset if he'd just up and left, or if I'd been stupid enough to be MAD at him for being honest and forthright, and kicked him out.
So I said, "If you want to talk, we'll talk." And we did-- in short, little two-minute bursts. He explained that we needed a break-- just a month or so. It wasn't me-- the classic line that no one believes anymore, but my already deprecating self-confidence swallowed it, hook line and sinker.
I seem to be more eloquent when I'm depressed, you notice?
He didn't want us to stop seeing each other-- but since he lived so far away, trying to maintain a relationship when he felt there was no more "spark" would just be a waste of his time and money. It probably will be a month until I see him next-- and I find myself a bit upset that sad songs and quotes keep popping into my head.
Things like "Friendship often ends in love, but love in friendship never," (HORSERADISH! I'm going to MAKE THAT STATEMENT FALSE!) and "What of the soul was left, when the kissing had to stop?" The 98 Degrees song, "The Hardest Thing [I'll Ever Have To Do]" and a2000a's "You're Original." Last night, I kept recalling the first time he kissed me-- and the first time my mom saw, and the look on her face was priceless. I remember the time I stayed at his house, and even when he was dead tired after all his party hosting, he held me in his arms like I was the most precious thing to him.
I believe him when he says that I was the farthest he ever got with a girl-- it's not a monumental achievement or whatever, but at least that means we've both gotten to certain stages in our romantic lives.
I asked him if he planned to see other people-- no... he wasn't sure. I tried to say I wouldn't be jealous, but I think in reality I would. I feel bad just for admitting this, when less than a month ago I was feeling awfully superficial about our relationship, almost ashamed that he wasn't a handsome Prince Charming, or some studly, mysterious bishounen out of a shoujo manga. But as time went by, I realized I didn't care about that-- anyone who does isn't looking past themselves either. In the beginning, I always asked Joe why he went out with me-- what in the world he saw in me, or why he found himself attracted to me. Whatever he felt, he couldn't put it into words. Maybe I'm being naive, and he really DID use me and lose me-- but I feel such a deep connection to him, even after he's left. It's not a goodbye-- it's a see you again next month. It's not I hate you, but thank you... for everything you've done... everything you've said, and everything you've given me the opportunity to feel.
And I miss him... as if he were gone for real, gone from my life. He's not, in reality... I know we'll see each other again. Soon, maybe. And if people say that we can't be friends, I'll prove them wrong. I'll find that someone out there who loves me for who I am, and who doesn't let "sparks" die. Maybe it'll be Joe still, and maybe it won't. I have to be optimistic.
I have to try and keep on living. Right now, I am moving on with my life.
Since the weekend of April 27th, I was considered "taken" -- that is, I was going out with an intelligent, considerate, generous, sweet, and funny man of 19 years by the name of Joe.
In the beginning, I wasn't sure if I was in love with him... but I certainly liked the way I felt around him, and the way he made me feel-- about myself, my surroundings, and about everything.
In the past three months our relationship kept climbing those stairs to a new level... and we sort of reached that level today. Shortly thereafter, Joe looked downright uncomfortable... and I asked him flat out what was wrong. After what we had done, I had 75% of me screaming that if he didn't want to continue, then that meant he was going to -as I had feared the night previous, coming up with excuses as to why I didn't want to do The Deed- "use me and lose me." It had been a long 3 months of using and losing, and I know he could have done it in a far less expensive manner.
But that's not what happened at all. He'd gotten to the stage in our relationship where "the spark was gone," and the love he felt for me wasn't romantic in nature anymore. I appreciated -and still do- his honesty. He told me that his first relationship failed because both he and his then-girlfriend didn't want to admit to the failures in their relationship-- wanted to keep going for the sake of making out. But he appreciated and honored me as a friend so much that he told me this, and that he didn't want that happening to us. He'd been thinking about it for a few weeks now, trying to rekindle whatever he'd originally felt, but without success.
I tried not to cry, tried to ignore him holding me for a good twenty minutes. I finally got up off the couch, grabbed my shirt, and stalked to the bathroom. I looked like a wreck. I brushed my teeth till they bled (so what, I have sensitive gums) and then wiped my face clean. 'Crying is a weakness,' I told myself, brushing and setting my hair, and putting on my glasses. He was out there waiting for me when I came out-- I wasn't surprised. I would have been upset if he'd just up and left, or if I'd been stupid enough to be MAD at him for being honest and forthright, and kicked him out.
So I said, "If you want to talk, we'll talk." And we did-- in short, little two-minute bursts. He explained that we needed a break-- just a month or so. It wasn't me-- the classic line that no one believes anymore, but my already deprecating self-confidence swallowed it, hook line and sinker.
I seem to be more eloquent when I'm depressed, you notice?
He didn't want us to stop seeing each other-- but since he lived so far away, trying to maintain a relationship when he felt there was no more "spark" would just be a waste of his time and money. It probably will be a month until I see him next-- and I find myself a bit upset that sad songs and quotes keep popping into my head.
Things like "Friendship often ends in love, but love in friendship never," (HORSERADISH! I'm going to MAKE THAT STATEMENT FALSE!) and "What of the soul was left, when the kissing had to stop?" The 98 Degrees song, "The Hardest Thing [I'll Ever Have To Do]" and a2000a's "You're Original." Last night, I kept recalling the first time he kissed me-- and the first time my mom saw, and the look on her face was priceless. I remember the time I stayed at his house, and even when he was dead tired after all his party hosting, he held me in his arms like I was the most precious thing to him.
I believe him when he says that I was the farthest he ever got with a girl-- it's not a monumental achievement or whatever, but at least that means we've both gotten to certain stages in our romantic lives.
I asked him if he planned to see other people-- no... he wasn't sure. I tried to say I wouldn't be jealous, but I think in reality I would. I feel bad just for admitting this, when less than a month ago I was feeling awfully superficial about our relationship, almost ashamed that he wasn't a handsome Prince Charming, or some studly, mysterious bishounen out of a shoujo manga. But as time went by, I realized I didn't care about that-- anyone who does isn't looking past themselves either. In the beginning, I always asked Joe why he went out with me-- what in the world he saw in me, or why he found himself attracted to me. Whatever he felt, he couldn't put it into words. Maybe I'm being naive, and he really DID use me and lose me-- but I feel such a deep connection to him, even after he's left. It's not a goodbye-- it's a see you again next month. It's not I hate you, but thank you... for everything you've done... everything you've said, and everything you've given me the opportunity to feel.
And I miss him... as if he were gone for real, gone from my life. He's not, in reality... I know we'll see each other again. Soon, maybe. And if people say that we can't be friends, I'll prove them wrong. I'll find that someone out there who loves me for who I am, and who doesn't let "sparks" die. Maybe it'll be Joe still, and maybe it won't. I have to be optimistic.
I have to try and keep on living. Right now, I am moving on with my life.
