Dating : After him

After him

Insomnia. Stomach pain. The first thing I do, every day when I wake up, is still to check my phone, to see if he left any messages, to see if there’s any trace showing his whereabouts or wellbeing on social media. I’m clearly not over him. The first thing I tried to do to cope with the breakup was to write. But there’s so much, so much, that no words or paragraphs can tell them all. But more importantly, relationships are so private, because they are not just about regular memories, but memories built upon another person’s entirety, their mighty glories but also their deepest vulnerabilities. That is the beauty of love, to experience the intricate balance of being a real human being with someone else entirely. It would just be unfair for me to share his story the way I know it with others.

I’ve been coping okay with the breakup. Talked to a lot of my friends, especially the ones with relationship/breakup experiences. I’ve been meditating every day, enough though it’s really hard and I’m not doing a good job. Compared to the first few days when I’m literally crying out loud half of the day, unable to sleep at all at night, I’m doing a ton better.

Nighttimes are the worst. I wake up dreaming about having back and forth ugly breakups with him. He’s always there, as my best friend even in the worst nightmares. My morning brain is no longer tranquil, instead filled with the hypothetical conversation that I have with an imaginary him, over and over again.

When I told my friends about him and the breakup, telling them about his flaws and what happened leading to the breakup, they mostly congratulate me for doing the hard but right thing. A few friends congratulated me on having a passionate true love that’s rare in today’s time. “Deeper souls cut baby.” I think that’s hilarious. Which kind of breakup would I choose for myself, if I have the freedom to choose? Maybe apathy? Because no feeling seems less painful and I hate how painful it is and want the pain to be over?

I once talked to a friend who recently began his first ever relationship. I asked him what’s his biggest learning or realization so far from the relationship. He said it was the profound understanding of another human being, at a level that not even best friends can reach, and the tolerance of another stream of consciousness, the realization that everyone is different and to see a whole new perspective through the other person. He would have never said anything like that before dating his girl. He has indeed grown a lot. That’s beautiful and also very true.

The truth is, I miss him so much. He was my best friend. He shared so many details of my life that no other human being on this planet has ever managed to, and vice versa. He was, on many days the only person I ever see or talk to. He is very different from me. Probably the most different out of all my close friends. But relationship is interesting in that it makes this type of rare friendship possible. Quarantine is so fucking hard, it first glued us together and then just like that tore us apart. When I felt unproductive and down during quarantine, he was the mature one to tell me, this is an extremely hard time for everyone, so it’s okay to feel not okay. He truly convinced me and I’m never blaming myself again for the faults of this quarantine.

Lately, I kept telling my friends that this is the neediest I’ve ever been in my life. I was single for a long time. Before that, maybe in a relationship that ended in apathy, at least on my side. Being single has so much power that I overlooked until I was out of a relationship again. I felt a sense of lost independence, a sense of immense dependency on others to fill some void, so exhausting, so demanding, that I’ve never imagined possible. I half jokingly said that being single is the most adult way of being an adult, because there’s no one to share responsibilities with, and you have to take full responsibilities for yourself, all the time, emotionally and otherwise. I’ve only realized now that all those hobbies, routines of mine, are just powerful coping skills that I developed to entertain myself like an imaginary partner would. It is true, as I see from him, someone who’s worse at taking care of himself, someone who’s tried to cope with it by sleeping with a lot of people, to feel that fleeting thrill as well as to fulfill the need to temporarily not be lonely.

I seek validation. I suppose all humans do, trying to feel better about their insecurities and trying to be seen. Before I met him, I’ve always felt like an imposter, not just in a male dominated professional environment, but just almost everything about being myself. I don’t think I’m attractive or really smart, while secretly I value those arbitrary attributes a lot. For the first time after leaving home, I’ve found a person who makes me feel at home, by loving me for who I am, and asking for nothing more.

He is very good at showing affection. And he means it even though it makes him vulnerable in any kind of relationship. I never learned how to love and he was my teacher, and a brilliant one. He might be lacking in what others take for granted, but his exceptional ability to love might be his biggest strength. When I first dated him, I told my friend about him, and said that he’s very interesting, I guess a little bit immature, but at least he’s not like many guys who are manipulative dicks, those who make you feel so shitty about yourself and secretly manipulate your emotions to their advantages. We all know that type, and maybe you are one, just humiliated to admit it. But I can say that he wasn’t, and that he loved me well. He never asked me to change, and he never made me feel bad about who I am. I felt very safe and comfortable with him.

When you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags. — Bojack Horseman

When I first started dating him, it wasn’t that I didn’t know or that he was hiding any of his flaws, but it didn’t matter as much if we were dating casually, or it didn’t matter if I just want to have fun for a month, but then it snowballed, and before I knew it, I was so deep in love with this broken human being and I started constantly switching between questioning, pretending that everything is fine, tolerating, and demanding change. But it didn’t work. I’m asking for an entirely different person who doesn’t have any of the issues that he has. That’s not fair for him, and not possible, at least so soon before I lose all my patience or I get hurt so bad to not know how to trust anymore.

We still talked through texts even after our breakup. As anyone would tell me, I should have just stopped talking to him entirely. This is good for both of us. And indeed, as everyone said, my emotional relapse tends to happen when we talk too much. When we were first on a break for a few hours, I couldn’t bear the thought that now when I want to say something, I cannot say it to the person de facto, that I have to come up with a list of other people to fulfill that desire to share and to be heard. I remember, as if it was long ago, how talking to him already felt different in a melancholy way. I promised to still be his best friend but I’m not, and he’s not mine anymore, maybe except the one copy that I saved in my brain that I talk to all the time when I miss him. That realization that what we had between us is no longer there and maybe we’ll just be strangers living completely parallel lives as if this never happened pains me so much.

I asked a friend after my breakup about how long it took for him to get out of it. He said, sometimes you don’t get over it. Relationship changes a person and becomes part of the person. You are not over it, you are now part of it. I thought that was also beautiful. That’s what I’d like to believe. About this relationship, about him. That when I move on with my life, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t matter to me. In fact, he matters so much that I am part-him, part-our relationship. He taught me how to love, without reservation, to be so vulnerable but so powerful in front of each other that I think not many would ever experience in this world. He taught me about good communication, games, computer stuff, so much about movies and music. He taught me about loving myself and validating myself. Maybe that voice that pretends to be him will wither over time, but who I am will not have been the same without this relationship.

He said when we broke up, how he wished he was a different person when we first met. I guess that’d be nice. But I also loved him for who he was. But after all, relationship is about timing. I’m already so grateful to have met him now, to have been together, so deeply in love for the time being. I hope he changes for the better. And when he does, he’ll realize that who he’s with is not that important, that he is mentally strong and all pains are manageable, with a little magic potion called time. And maybe then, we are both mature enough to be friends again.

Another friend told me that when he first broke up, he tried to immerse himself in the pain, as if a reminder that what they had together was real and that it was worth that profound agony. Time forces everyone to move on, sooner or later, and honestly I don’t think I’m capable of living through that agony. I’d rather use this writing to commemorate our relationship and breakup than to fall into the abyss until I can no longer feel to remind myself that I did love, for once, completely and passionately. I know that I did, and nothing can change that which has happened.

Oh, and last but not least, I’m truly grateful for all my friends, especially Ceci, for going through this with me. I would have never been able to do this alone. Without all your advice and being there to listen or to share when I needed it the most, I would have just cried my face off and went back to him, only to have an ugly breakup later. THANK YOU.

— 5/15/20, 4 a.m., at Ceci’s apartment in LIC