realize that love is worth waiting for

It’s interesting how my feelings have changed over the course of the last months. My last entry was written the very same day I broke up with the ex. Today it’s almost three months later. It was my first relationship and my first breakup. Today, while I am still lonely sometimes, it’s not a desperate loneliness the way it was before.

Today, if anything, I miss his friendship. In the weeks after the breakup, I missed having someone and I missed him specifically, but as a few more weeks went on, I realized how much happier I was without him. I was more focused on myself and on spending time with people who made me feel good. I wasn’t brooding, wondering if and when he was going to call. I no longer felt needy and dependent. Then a strange thing happened. Once I realized how much less stressed I was, and as I began to see the former relationship more objectively, I felt like I went through a second grieving period of sorts. I began to see that I had let myself get taken advantage of, and I became able to put into words what I’d felt during the relationship. I identified that being with him had allowed me to pretend that he cared and was more committed than was actually the case. And the grieving came when I realized those things because I felt very hurt, and I felt betrayed by the fact that he didn’t break up with me once he knew that I was becoming more and more attached. I had to keep telling myself that the most important thing was that I had been proactive and gotten myself out of it, that I had woken up and begun to believe I was worth more, and that that realization is what gave me the courage to say, “I can’t see you anymore.”

When I left his house the day of the breakup, he kissed me on the cheek and said, “Give me a call. Let me know how you’re doing.” I was crying and didn’t want to try to speak through my tears, so I simply nodded and walked away. As I did, I thought that I would end up calling him later in the week, but you know what? I didn’t. And in retrospect I think that was the best move, or the best non-move. I just couldn’t do it, you know? I didn’t want to talk to him while I was still mourning his loss. I haven’t spoken to him or communicated with him in any way since then, but lately I’ve been wanting to meet with him, simply because of the fact that I want him to know I’m doing much better without him. Is that stupid and vengeful of me? I also partly want to because I have some things of his that I want to give back rather than simply get rid of. But I’m a little reluctant. I don’t feel like re-opening that part of my past. I’m confident, however, that if and when I see him again I will be able to feel whatever I’m going to feel and easily move on to my normal life.

I’ve been on a couple dates since the breakup, with a couple different people. One of them I felt I could really get along with, and I felt like he and I had some important things in common. It seemed like we had potential. But the last few communications we had with each other were initiated by me, not him, and he didn’t make any effort to try to see me. It’s been five days since we last communicated, and I’m pretty much concluding that he’s no longer interested. I’ll admit I’m a little bit irritated; our last date seemed to go very well. He kissed me when he dropped me off for the night, and I felt like I was walking on clouds for the next few days. Now? Who knows what he’s thinking. All I know is that I won’t make the same mistake twice. I won’t keep calling. I won’t keep texting. I won’t put my life on hold for a man. My coworker said to me the other day that you should never have to sell yourself, that being yourself should be enough, and I think I agree with him.

This entry turned out much longer than originally intended, but I needed to get all these thoughts out of my head. I feel like my last relationship was sort of a joke. But I learned a big and important lesson. I learned that I am not someone who can do romantic or sexual things without a relationship to go along with it. I learned not to give of myself so easily. I learned that I have a lot of love to give, but more importantly I am learning in the aftermath that I can’t give it to just anybody.

And so I am by myself tonight, as I was last night and as I expect I will be tomorrow night. I am lonely, yes. I want to be in a relationship. A serious relationship, at that. I want so much to experience the reciprocality of loving and being loved, of sharing the mundane events of everyday life with someone, like washing dishes after dinner or simply curling up on the couch with a book while the other is wasting time on the internet. Those are the kinds of things that touch my heart: spending time together without having to do anything special, where simply being in each other’s presence is enough. A relationship where the little things are what count the most. I thought I would have that with the man I was seeing most recently. My point, I suppose, is that I am deciding here and now not to worry about it. I am concentrating on becoming more independent, on becoming more comfortable with myself, and on becoming a woman who can create her own happiness. I won’t say it’s easy; it’s not. The steps that I am taking are very small. But I believe that in accomplishing these small tasks, I am slowly becoming the person that I need to be for whoever turns out to be the one that I decide to share my life with. And that is definitely worth it.

They say that breaking up is hard to do. Now I know. I know that it’s true.

Now, here’s the thing. I have a boyfriend now, and I’ve been with him for almost five months. I like him, he likes me, and things are going well. That’s the good news. But I don’t think it’s going to last forever. That’s the bad news and it makes me a little sad. No, it makes me a lot sad. However, we’ve talked about things, and I’m coming to terms with all of it. Or trying to, anyway. I won’t lie. It’s tough. It’s really tough. But we both know we’re not “the one” for each other and I think we both deserve someone amazing. So we’re enjoying each other for the time being, but this relationship, at the very least, is helping me realize that love is worth waiting for, because I don’t want either of us to sell ourselves short.

I have been disappointed by a boy. My coworker is also going through some stuff, and she posted this in a Myspace bulletin:

“I am a weird woman.

I am an amazing woman.

I am beautiful.

&& I will wait as long as long as I need to find a male who genuinely appreciates me.”

It makes me feel less sad for myself. I just have to keep thinking that whatever is meant to be will come to fruition, and every experience I have makes me a little bit better and a little bit more prepared for whoever my Wonderful Someone happens to be.

I deserve to be with somebody wonderful.

I went on vacation last weekend, and while on my trip, I met someone who I really would have liked the chance to get to know better. During the three nights of my stay, we noticed each other the first two nights, and spoke on the last night. Nothing happened, of course, but I really liked him and I suspect he thought I was attractive, even if he didn’t show it overtly. The two major hindrances, however, are that he and I live in cities a good seven hours apart, and he is nineteen years my senior. He was really nice and fun to talk to, and I have an inkling that if I were older, we might have ended up seeing what would come of our meeting.

If you’ve followed my entries, you know that I’ve never had a boyfriend or a relationship, I’ve never been asked out on a date, held someone’s hand, any of that stuff. Lately I had been warming up slightly to the idea of starting to date, but after meeting this man, I’m beginning to think that maybe I’m still not quite ready. I mean, to me, dating means having to lower my standards, even if only a little bit. But I hate small talk and I’m not good at meeting people. Now, when I met this person, I mentioned at some point in our conversation that I’d never been drunk, and get this: he said he never had been either! We both thought that was pretty neat, and I feel like it was a meaningful connection between us. Having that in common reiterated to me that I don’t have to lower my standards, or at least not the ones that really matter. And the fact that it was found out purely coincidentally like that reminded me that when I truly think about romantic love, I just feel like it’s something that will come to me when the time is right. Apparently that time is not now, but I think this meeting came at the right time in my life, and I think it serves as an important part of this growing process I’ve been going through. I am grateful for it.

The good news is I’m not currently as depressed as I could be. The bad news is I am a little depressed. I went to a concert tonight to see a local reggae band. It was really good, and normally I don’t mind doing things alone, but there was a big crowd of couples dancing, and I wished I could have been part of it. I ran into one of my cousins there, who I don’t see very often, and when she came over to say hi, she said to me, “I was telling Jess [my other cousin] that one of the band members must be her boyfriend.” She assumed it, I suppose, because I was by myself. I wasn’t offended or anything; in fact, I was a little flattered by it because now I know that at least one person thinks I’m attractive enough to have a boyfriend. But it kind of made me sad, because I often do wish I had someone to do things with.

There are things I’d like to do: go to the movies or to dinner, go kayaking, go to amusement parks, see certain shows or concerts. I know I could do them alone, and I’m not the type of person who is afraid to do things alone, but I like to do things with friends too, and right now I’m not in a position where I can do things with my friends. Some of them live out of town. Some of them would want to invite their boyfriends along. Some of them are flaky and we hardly ever are able to make definite plans. And then my friends all tell me about the fun things they’ve done and places they’ve been (with their boyfriends) and I can’t help feeling like I’ve been replaced. Sure, everybody thinks I’m happy and independent, and I am most of the time. Sometimes, though, like now, it’s really tough to sit here feeling like I’m the only person in the world with no Friday night plans.

I think that I have gained a lot of confidence in myself over the last few months. I think I’m a nice enough person, and I know I’m no supermodel, but I don’t think I’m hideous or anything. At the moment I’m just kind of sick of feeling like I have a lot of love to give and no one to give it to. I’m going to the county fair tomorrow with two of my cousins and their boyfriends. On one hand I’m looking forward to it because these cousins in particular are like my sisters, and their boyfriends are really nice guys. On the other hand, I’m absolutely dreading it because, once again, I get to be the fifth wheel. I have about fifteen cousins, and I am the only one who has never had a significant other. I can’t help wondering if I’m kidding myself. If I had anything to offer, wouldn’t I have at least had someone ask me out on a date by now? Some of my cousins are already married with kids, and I’m still waiting for someone to like me enough to even want to hold my hand.

I’ve got to say, I’ve come a long way, for the time being at least. In the nine months since my last entry, I’ve been more independent. See, the first three years of college, I was living with my cousin. Things worked out fine, but she graduated and moved on. It was fun while it lasted, but I just feel like I’ve grown so much since she left. My fourth year of college, which ended a month ago, I had a new roommate. I also had to make almost all new friends, because my best friends graduated the year before with my cousin. I had a hard time the first couple of weeks (I got a little homesick), but looking back on the year, I’m proud of how I’ve managed.

I was “alone” in the sense of having to meet new people, but I did it, and that’s a big deal for me. I found a job (I’d never had one while going to school) and got straight A’s both semesters. I began taking better care of myself diet-wise and lost 25 pounds. I still have never had a boyfriend or been on a date, but I can think of three (yes, three!) boys I suspect had a crush on me last year, though none of them ever said it. So, although I’ve still never been in a relationship, these last few months have been really empowering for me.I’ve learned that I can manage on my own. And of course, every day was not perfect, but I’ve learned I can do okay for myself despite the imperfection.

I had dinner with a friend a couple of weeks ago, and she said that I carry myself differently than other people my age, and that’s why boys don’t approach me. She said I’m more mature than most, and boys don’t want to put forth the effort if they think they’ll be rejected. I admit the thought is slightly depressing (but only slightly), but I think it’s a good sign that it doesn’t make me feel bad about myself, because if someone had told me that bit of information a year or two ago, I would have automatically started beating myself up for not being pretty/skinny/blonde/outgoing enough to attract someone. I’ve thought to myself before, “What if I don’t ever go on a date until I’m in my 30’s or 40’s?” However likely or unlikely it is, I’m okay with that idea. If it takes that long to find someone (or for him to find me) that I think will make me happy, well then I’m willing to wait.

I realized today that for the last three nights I’ve gone to bed without wondering what it’s like to fall asleep in someone’s arms. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that that’s the last thing I’ve thought of every day for the last few years, but it’s the truth. I couldn’t figure out if my going to bed “alone” is a good thing or a bad thing, because it either means I’ve given up hope for love, or it means I’m finally beginning to feel whole as a party of one. For optimism’s sake, I’m going to assume the latter. And even though I’m pretty sure this won’t last, I’ll revel in it while it does.

Having said that, I often wonder if I ever will be part of a meaningful relationship. I can think of two male friends in particular who are great guys, and when I think about long-term relationships and marriage, I think I’d like to find someone like them. However, I also often wonder why they’ve decided to be friends with me, because they’re both very personable, cheerful, and friendly people, and I don’t really describe myself as any of those things. Oh I’m not mean or anything, it just takes me a while to fully open up to people. So when I fantacize about love, as we single girls so often do, and I really try to imagine myself in a relationship, I don’t know, it just doesn’t click for me. Or when I think about cuddling or really being in love, I honestly cannot imagine any man liking me enough, or thinking he loves me enough, to want to spend the rest of his life with me or be close to me, or get butterflies in his stomach when he’s with me. It kind of makes me sad, because I want to be optimistic, but I just don’t see it happening for me.

I tend to go back and forth between wanting to be in a real relationship, and wondering whether being in a relationship is even worth it. The couples I know seem to bicker all the time (or maybe it’s only when I’m around), and it is one of the absolute most annoying things to me. Yet I listen to my friends and cousins talk about their boyfriends, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy. They have someone who is always there for them, someone who loves them unconditionally, or so it seems.

Sometimes I think that I probably just enjoy the fantasy of being in love, rather than actually wanting the reality. Because as long as I have the fantasy, I don’t have to be disappointed with what really is. I don’t know what really is, though, because I’ve never experienced it.

Sometimes I wonder what it is about me that keeps the male population away, because as far as I know, the last time anyone was interested in me was seventh grade. Other times I wonder whether I ever even want to get married. I won’t be surprised if I never do. I wish I could just make up my mind and stop caring so much about whether I’ll ever find love. It just seems like such a petty thing to worry about.