Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m writing this article. Am I using this as a digital diary? Am I screaming into a void, knowing that I’m never gonna get an answer back, pleading for someone to tell me what I’m supposed to do? Am I desperately trying to warn others, hoping to let anyone and everyone know what I went through? I thought that writing about this would help me clear my thoughts and come to a greater understanding of things, but honestly, it somehow left me more confused.
I’m not sure if “situationship” is the best word to describe our relationship. We weren’t dating and we weren’t exclusive, but we weren’t nothing. We weren’t just f*ck buddies, but we were more than that.
Sometimes I’d go over to his place at night and we wouldn’t even have sex. He’d just hold me in his arms and run his fingers through my hair as we watched our show together until we fell asleep. The show that we promised to not watch with anyone else.
For the first few weeks of us texting and hanging out after I met him, things were perfect. We’d text all the time and sometimes he’d even want me to come over multiple nights in a row. Then, one day, things changed.
I went to a party he was at and got too drunk in front of him. He spent the night taking care of me and making sure I got home safe.
After that night, I got 1-2 texts a day and would see him every other week if I was lucky, as he’d constantly flake on our plans. This continued for a while, and it bothered me so much. But eventually, I just got used to his inconsistencies. Never hanging out with me before 10 PM. Cancelling on our plans a matter of minutes before. FaceTiming me until 6 AM. Texting me twice a day. Telling me he wasn’t talking to anyone else.
It was weird though — I felt so unsure in our relationship? situationship? fwb? friendship? and I’d constantly have doubts, until we hungout.
Being in his arms, having him swirl his thumb on my arm and play with my hair without even having to ask; I suddenly felt so much more confident in our what were we? anytime I was with him.
Eventually, we had the conversation of exclusivity, and decided to be non-exclusive, meaning that we could hangout with other people, our parameters being that we “weren’t allowed to make anyone else feel special.” I’d go over to his place and hangout with him and his roommates, and I’d wonder if he’d brought any other girls over anytime in the past week.
Summer came, and despite being two hours apart, he was texting me all the time and FaceTiming me for hours on end. He’d tell me about how much he missed me and how badly he wanted to come visit me, and it was so confusing. Why would he barely talk to me when we were five minutes away from each other, but now that we’re over 100 miles apart, he talks to me all the time? It didn’t make any sense, but I didn’t complain.
Over the summer, he’d constantly say/do questionable things that I definitely should’ve cut him off for — but how could I? I was so attached to him? the idea of him? us? that I was never able to end things with him, no matter how many times he disrespected me.
Mid-summer, I met a boy and eventually, we started dating. This meant that I had to cut him off. But naturally, when my boyfriend and I brokeup at the start of the semester, can you guess who I texted? Him.
We hungout soon after I’d texted him and I was immediately reminded of how much I’d missed him and how good our chemistry was. I was so glad to be back in his arms as we watched our show and he ran his fingers through my hair until I fell asleep on his chest.
But him being him, a month went by after that, and despite texting consistently, we still hadn’t seen each other since then. Excuses would soar about why we hadn’t hung out.
Weeknights just aren’t good for me
You’ve been busy (I had not been busy)
I just have so much work
I’ve been tired and socially drained
My friends are always over on weekends
It made no sense. Why was he texting me everyday and constantly giving me reassurance if he wouldn’t even hangout with me? I’d accuse him of keeping me around as an “option,” but he’d deny it, parading me with meaningless promises about how much I meant to him.
And as our relationship? friendship? fwb? situationship? continued, so did him treating me poorly.
He would do countless things to disrespect me, but then he’d send paragraphs apologizing to me, telling me how much I meant to him and how much he liked me, and we’d even talk on the phone for extended periods of time about it as he apologized over and over again. And naturally, I’d forgive him. But nothing would change.
Having a fear of being alone and attachment issues, I’d constantly tell myself that he wasn’t as bad as my ex as reasoning for why I shouldn’t cut him off. Maybe he’d was treating me like sh*t, but at least he wasn’t as bad as my ex, right?
It honestly started to feel like he could do anything he wanted to me and I’d forgive him, as long as he apologized — his promises to change paired with his genuine-seeming apologies after his patterns of disrespect seemed so believable. It felt like I was under a spell he’d put on me.
Over winter break, I seriously considered cutting him off after his most disrespectful train of behavior yet. But it seemed genuinely impossible with his paragraphs upon paragraphs apologizing.
You really do mean a lot to me, I really like you a lot Emma.
I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about how my actions affected you.
You’re really important to me and I don’t want to lose you.
Please just give me one more chance to show I’ll change.
You hold a lot of value in my life.
I’m changing for me, because I want to.
You mean a lot to me no matter how little you might believe me, but you do.
I am genuinely sorry that I’ve hurt you and affected you the way I have.
I care about you more than any of those other girls.
How was I supposed to end things with him with promises like these?
I’d be firm on cutting him off, but he’d ask to FaceTime me to say some last few things before I blocked him, and just like that, I’d be under his spell again as I picked up the phone and he’d tell me how pretty I looked, carrying on a normal conversation.
I managed to cut him off before New Year’s, only lasting a few days before texting him because I felt like I was genuinely going insane without talking to him. It felt impossible not having him in my life, and one text later, things were back to normal.
Normal being the constant disrespect, the flaking on plans, the hours before responding to my texts, the never making plans with me.
I didn’t know what to do. He was treating me so terribly, but how was I supposed to accept being alone? Especially after a year of him being in my life, I felt like I couldn’t cut him off.
I began to wonder if he ever thought about me like I thought about him. He completely and absolutely consumed all of my thoughts — did he ever even think about me once in an entire day?
With the endless tears I cried over him, and the hours I spent venting about him, I almost felt like I was back in the same toxic cycle I had somehow managed to escape with my ex-boyfriend. But he wasn’t as bad as my ex was, so it doesn’t matter, right?
After he did something unforgivable, I knew that there was no way I could let it go. But what about his apologies?
It’s completely my fault and I’m sorry.
I am very sorry especially when I knew how much this meant to you.
I’m not expecting forgiveness I just want you to know I do feel so awful.
If you were to ask anyone they’d tell you I was really upset last night because I knew I f*cked up.
Think about all of the good things between us rather than the bad.
I am so so sorry.
I never intended to do that to you and I know it’s unacceptable.
I feel really bad about it and I’m sorry.
When I finally did cut him off, after days of apologies on his end, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach. I kept waiting by my phone, expecting he’d text me, only to receive nothing. I began searching for reasons to text him.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We weren’t supposed to end on bad terms — he was supposed to text me a few days later apologizing and telling me how much he missed me. What do you mean that after having this man in my life for 374 days, we ended on bad terms?
It didn’t take me long to realize that it wasn’t him, but it was my dependency on having a man in my life. I hadn’t been alone, not talking to a man, since the beginning of my sophomore year of high school — six years since I’d gone more than a few days by myself. It wasn’t him that I was obsessed with, but it was the idea of him. The idea that I had a man in my life who told me how much he liked me and gave me copious amounts of attention.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to lie and say that I haven’t spoken to him since cutting him off, or if I’m supposed to be honest with myself and admit that I never want us to end. What we had, whatever it was, was ever so consuming and exhausting, yet I still find myself missing the feeling of being in his arms. I miss the thrill and the rollercoaster of emotions I went through on a daily basis. Does this mean I’m secretly a masochist? Or am I simply never going to be able to escape the cycle of toxicity?
TBH, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to end this article. Just as this article has no firm ending, so does my situationship. Because honestly, are we ever really over?