So, over the summer, I met a boy. And it wasn’t always easy, and in fact, it got less and less easy as time went on, I think, although just when I thought we were getting somewhere it ended.
And then I had three months to myself to sort myself out, and sort myself out I did. I’ve never felt so healthy and rational. And he was doing the same, or so we both thought, so when we got back together in December, we thought we were ready and that it would work this time. But immediately the same problems crept in. I was happy with him, but he got increasingly depressed and anxious, and at one point we nearly broke up, before Christmas.
But then things seemed to be working again. And you know, to me, it seemed like someone had given me a wonderful present – just for being me I was given this wonderful man who made me feel beautiful, who literally made me glow, who kissed me and bit me on the nose and thought I was all the things I’ve always wanted to think I was, and who saw things in me that even I hadn’t seen, and who took me places I didn’t even know existed, and who made me so damn happy, and bought me the most beautiful necklace for Christmas, and drove me about, and he was interesting and we had these fascinating conversations about God, bionics, and all sorts, and he made me laugh, and he could be so very sweet, and I thought I did all or most of those things for him.
I knew things weren’t perfect for him – I didn’t understand how or why but I knew that somehow being in a relationship made him anxious and depressed and put him under a certain amount of strain, some of the time, but since (whatever I said) I’d usually been able to tell when he was and wasn’t OK before, I thought that things seemed a lot better, and I’m sure they were, right up until the last day we saw one another, when he seemed tired and a little bit off, but kissed me goodbye affectionately and didn’t give one single hint of wanting to imminently break up with me, left me, saying, ‘I’ll see you’. Smiling. Not sure when, but soon.
And then the very next day – the very next day! – he rings up and breaks it off, just like that, saying that things were getting no better for him and it was just too difficult and that this time, that was it, because his happiness when we were together was ‘so hit and miss’ and lately ‘more miss than hit’. It seemed like such an out of the blue thing – not because I thought things were going swimmingly, but because it felt like he had been prepared to put a bit more time and effort into working out what wasn’t working for him, because he’d agreed it might take some work and that perhaps the only way to work out why he struggles so much with relationships was to actually stick with me and work on it, and because I thought things had settled out into something fairly stable, a good place from which to start figuring all this out. And no, apparently I was wrong, because he goes back to university and rings up to say he’s giving up at the first hurdle and that this time that’s it. And I don’t know whether I can believe that it’s basically about him, and that this is what happens every time for him, or whether it’s partly us. I’m utterly confused and washed out and to be honest angry that six months of being messed around and told one thing than another and having him change his mind every other day, every other minute, sometimes, even, and it’s just fizzled out. As if you can just walk away, just like that. To me it feels like giving up. It feels as if he thought, oh, this is hard, and never actually tried to change it or work out why it was hard and find out how to make it easier. Oh, this is hard, I think I’ll run away now. I mean, what happened to wanting to work at this? I was utterly prepared for the idea that it wasn’t always going to be a bundle of laughs, that I was going to be confused and messed about a lot and would have to deal with some serious emotional confusion. I was prepared to stick by him through that in the hope that things would work out in the end. He had found someone who would give that for him and then he just walks off?
Well do you know what? This is hard. And now I have to pack him up in a box inside my head, sellotape the lid down, and just not think about this for a goodly while. By the time I can think about this again, things’ll be different; I’ll have moved on. As for friendship, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to do that. Yes, I’m angry, and sad, and irrational. Of course. But now I have to drink some more tea and get on with revision, sorry.
P.S. You know I miss you, but I thought I’d say it anyway.