Just like a dream sequence, you have no idea how it began. The story always starts in the middle and somewhere along the thin line of friendship and love, the pathway got smudged and you eventually got led to this place. After all, you should know how to avoid this. You’re supposed to be older and wiser but there’s this nagging feeling that it may lead to something wonderful. You see, it’s that little spark of hope that’s dangerous. You’ll try to come up with excuses to explain how you’ve allowed this to happen then denial kicks in when things don’t go according to plan. Regardless of labels, how we deal with heartbreak when we get to the end doesn’t change. It also doesn’t matter if it lasted years or months as the intensity of the pain doesn’t lessen. Once you’ve realized the proper term for this type of relationship (if there’s really such a thing), you know you’re definitely screwed.
I don’t exactly know how I got here. All I knew was that a few months ago, I met him in between being broken so badly and shit happens. As co-founder of the walking wounded club, I wasn’t looking for anything. Truth be told, I just wanted someone to talk to. It started harmlessly enough. Casual conversations here and there until it became a habit. Thinking about it now, I bet this is how every addiction to something begins. He was a ray of sunshine in my gloomy universe. He would ask me about my day and I would pour my heart out without fear of being judged. As weird as this sounds, he is in every sense my male counterpart. He wakes up with the flu, drinks coffee while he smokes in the morning and adores 90’s alternative music. Aside from our mutual passion for reading and writing, did I mention he is smart, funny and absolutely charming? Oh fuck, I sound like a school girl describing her first crush.
You know what the worst part of all this is? I haven’t seen him in person. Our connection feels so surreal that it hasn’t occurred to me that maybe we won’t work out in real life. Let’s lay down some of my other concerns, shall we? Let’s start with I don’t know how to define “us” and is there even an “us” to begin with? For those who have been here, you know that this is not a pretty place. Being in the “middle of nowhere” raises a lot of questions that would ultimately injure your self-worth in the long run. It could be all fun and games at first since we’re operating under the no strings attached notion until someone falls in love and ends up breaking their heart.
Last week, I finally mustered enough courage to ask him out. I blame it on my playlist as Friday I’m in Love by The Cure was on repeat. I prepared what I was going to say. This was my first time to do this so I wanted it to sound right. Even with a solid plan in mind, it took me 3 hours to tell him this. I was nervous as hell and I couldn’t think straight even if the invite isn’t technically a “date”. To be on the safe side, I called it a “hanging out session” where we could drink coffee, possibly listen to live bands and play scrabble. Instead of sounding confident (with all the groundwork done), I sounded like a complete dork.
And just like in 500 Days of Summer, waiting for his answer came in the form of a split screen which showed my reality vs. expectations. He had no idea how disappointed I was with the nonchalant nature of his response. Add to the fact that he never really answered the question. So you see, it always starts beautifully until someone assumes that they mean something to the other person. I have hated V-day for the longest time but I was hoping that this year would be different. I know it would take time before I completely get you out of my system but eventually I will. I did not write this for you. I wrote this for those who have always been taken for granted and for those who know they deserve better but is too afraid to take the first step.
Cheers to all the unlucky ones.