Someone Like You

Life is funny.

I've never had a real relationship. I found a few drafts that I wrote for this blog once about a guy who I thought would be my first real relationship, but he turned out to be two misguided weeks of dating and kissing.

Despite this reality, I have spent a year of my life having my heart broken over and over again by the same person with a lot of help from another. What's even more hilarious about this situation is that they still don't know that I was heartbroken for a year. And if they did know, I'd be in quite a predicament.

I'm struggling. The guy has made me feel better and worse than I've ever felt. His actions have that power over me. I wish they didn't. But they do.

But I, I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over.

Never mind I'll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you two.
Don't forget me, I begged. I remember, you said...

It was a hard year. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I frequently got pep talks from strangers and acquaintances, because I couldn't bear to talk to my close friends about it. I told myself and my closest friends in the world that any struggle was over my fear of losing his friendship, which was definitely an element too.

And then, when I got away from it all, when it was over and I was finally taken out of the freaking fishbowl that was my life... I felt even worse.

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

And I'd like to pretend that it was clinical or that it had anything to do with my job or my friendships at home... but it was, as miserable as he had unintentionally made me all year, because he wasn't there. There was no way for me to see him, to knock on his door if I needed to, to ambush him with the hugs that make him so uncomfortable but that calm me down when I'm freaking out.

Even though there had been times in that year that I couldn't even look at him without wanting to cry... I was even more miserable when he was gone.

Which is so screwed up.

So screwed up.

Gah.

For the first time, I'm staring at a blog post and wondering if I should backspace it to oblivion. Posting would mean coming to the terms with the idea that maybe how I've been feeling more recently has some foundation somewhere.

And then I'd really have a lot to think about, and I'd only have about a week and a half in which to think about all of it.

I've written about this situation 3 or 4 times and talked about with friends countless times. I know that that may seem pathetic -- why can't this girl just focus on her own life, her work, her friends, her dreams, her future, her financial issues? But that's just the thing, isn't it? When you're falling for someone, there's a corner of your affection that wants them to be all of that. Even if it's just a fling (though in that case, it's a much smaller and much more subconscious corner, obviously).

When it comes down to it, I want an "us" to exist in our history. I depend on the hope that our friendship will last us a long time, but I know that there is untapped potential in us figuring out how to trust each other with what makes us individually fragile.

I'm about to press the "publish" button. I'm suddenly very aware of my inner masochist.