to love for the hope of it all

i tend to throw the word ‘love’ around very freely, and i think i always have in relationships. i wonder when the first or even last time i was truly in love was. things with a.b.s. are far too confusing to even take into account right now, so this post will operate in a pre-march 2023 world; one i didn’t know things could be so messed up in, yet so marvelous most of the time.

i know exactly what’s brought on this lil introspection into my approach to romantic relationships: the date of december 2nd. it always has. it’s almost ingrained in my head as the day that i realised somebody else saw a point in a romantic relationship with me (slightly ironic), that i was finally ‘worth it’ after waiting ‘so long’ as a teenager. my first real kiss and subsequent first relationship that i thought would be perfect and everlasting. under a streetlight near the school buses. i actually don’t remember anything about how it happened except how giddy i felt to finally be wanted by someone. huge smile on my face when i came home, excited to share the news with my mum (and arline) who then asked me if i had a boyfriend – something i wasn’t even sure about at that point until speaking to louis later that evening.

i have a photo of me a day later, december 3rd 2015, with perfect hair i put far too much effort and care into, a smile on my face; and while i usually find it so endearing and cute, i’m upset looking at it now. teenage me didn’t realise that all of the insecurities i had been harboring up until then had amalgamated into an insecure, anxious person, that had difficulty trusting romantic partners. a reoccuring theme in my life. i’m either too trusting in romantic relationships, even when the person hasn’t given me reason to be (josh comes to mind as an example, although i suppose most of that mess was me pretending to be somebody i wasn’t – the original creation of ‘ari’ as a name and attempt to reinvent myself as somebody more nonchalant and carefree); or i am never able to fully trust them (louis and james are two very different examples of this – i was an insecure teenager in one, and an adult getting taken advantage of in the second; which frankly did not deserve my trust anyway). i wonder where a.b.s. sits. somewhere in the messy middle. my trust in him exists, although wavering, but that feels slightly warranted with the uncertainty. i often wonder if i could ever fully trust him (i’d like to think i could).

the only partner i haven’t mentioned in my analysis so far is of course patrick. the person who made me feel wanted from the beginning despite the initial weirdness of our one-night stand, encouraging me to sit with him in our lecture together the next day, and keep seeing each other after. somebody who always involved me in plans and wanted to be around me because he enjoyed my company and prefered having me around – something i’m not sure i’ve felt since. his first relationship, a man on the spectrum who although claimed he didn’t really understand feelings, was always very good at taking care of mine. i always wonder if my positive accounts of him can actually be trusted, as i do remember feeling quite alone in that relationship, from beginning to end. i think it just always felt that i was more ‘fucked up’ than he was and almost felt guilty for it. i had this person in front of me trying their best, and it wasn’t enough, and i didn’t even know why it wasn’t. i think if i remove covid-times from my mind and our relationship, the first year or so was borderline perfect, perhaps tainted in my memory by my own stupidity (why i felt the need to be flirty with other people just to prove to myself that i was attractive, i’ll never fully understand). it almost never felt like i deserved him, but that at the same time, our relationship wasn’t fulfilling enough for me.

i always say that if it hadn’t been for covid, we would’ve stayed together, most likely for our lives, but i think that may just be me looking at it with rose-tinted glasses, knowing that my interpretation of it doesn’t matter now that it’s so far in the past. i remember feeling hesitations about our relationship even before lockdown. i remember feeling like i couldn’t ever express my feelings to him in a way that made sense, because i couldn’t identify what they were, or formulating them in a way that he understood (unsure if due to the autism or just differences between us). i think i’ve rewritten our story in my head to cope with how i feel i treated someone who deserved much more. although i know i was a good girlfriend and did everything i could for him, i think part of me knew that i wouldn’t feel fulfilled enough for my entire life with him. i knew i was partly playing the role of trophy girlfriend, which i actually enjoyed, but that i didn’t feel i could reveal the worst parts of myself – that he had put me on a pedestal because of how perfect i’d always pretended to be, and i knew i couldn’t live there forever. [i also always to take into account the fact that i stopped enjoying sex with him for a good while before we broke up, unsure if it was because i was unsure about my feelings and felt disconnected, or if it had to do with him]. i hope he never reads this. this seems like such a bleak outlook on a period of my life that i view as the best one i had the joy of experiencing, with fun friends and attending cool events and feeling like i had everything i had ever dreamed of (in terms of popularity). i think it just always felt like it was made to crumble. it was a world i was not meant to be in, but got the pleasure of experiencing. he was always a little bit out of reach, despite being mine.

i think that he plays on my mind so often because he’s the person i feel i most fucked things up with, and regret it in some way. not because i wish things had turned out different, or i wish the breakup hadn’t happened, but rather i just feel like he deserved better from the entire experience than me. i remember crying to the phone to each other about how much we cared for the other and could reach out at any time to deal with this, but also being worried about seeing him in the street, or even embarrassed about seeing any of our mutual friends. it shouldn’t have been over christmas break, but rather back in person when he returned from london. a hurried process by my desire of attention from other people – a reoccuring theme in my life, especially at that time. i’d like to think i’m much better with it now. somehow remaining ‘faithful’, even just with flirting, to a.b.s., a man who has expressed he doesn’t want a relationship with me. it’s funny how things change over time.

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when a.b.s. talks about having someone stuck on your mind and not being able to forget them, i find myself wondering if telling stories of my past would help the situation, or just make it worse by leaving the door open to lingering feelings. the truth is that i have a bit of care in my heart for anyone who has ever been in my life and left a positive mark (most have despite how things turned out); and although i wish them the best, they are currently only figments of my memories. i no longer know these people. i am no longer the person i was at the time that things were the way they were. things are just different. although that is sad – that’s the reality of it. i’m not who i was at the time things were going so ‘perfectly well’, and neither are they. holding on to shadows of people that no longer exist doesn’t help. i can appreciate their influence on my life at the time, and mentally thank them for it and wish them the best, but i do not wish to return to that time or reintroduce them into my life. i know better. my life now is better, as it is currently happening and not just a byproduct of my imagination.

while i could talk about this for quite a long time, it’s 1pm and i find myself antsy to get on with my day in a productive way. i may write again later.