Relationships to me are a come and go, romantic ones, I mean. I have dated in the past and broke up with them within two weeks of just holding hands.
I know, some of you are probably reading this like, you didn’t even give them a chance, or you’re terrible. Well I am sorry to say, my heart wasn’t in it.
I didn’t experience my first real relationship until high school. I knew for a while my best friend had liked me, but I never reciprocated those feelings (or even paid much attention to be honest). We were friends and that’s how I wanted us to be.
Until, for some strange reason, one day we were sitting across from each other in English class and I had this compelling feeling to ask to sleepover his house. To this day I don’t know why that feeling appeared (I can still feel it six years later).
I immediately afterwards backed out, making some lame excuse of not having a metro card. Like … we live in New York City, nobody uses a metro card. On top of that, I was a student, so we get one each year for free.
I ended up going to his house anyway with the persuasion of a friend who was seated at the table and inserted herself into our conversation. I can’t remember much about that night, but I do recall making the first move.
Wow Alicia, did you not just say you wanted to stay friends?
I know, I know. I have no idea what came over me that night. I don’t know if it was the setting of being in a mildly lit room or the long stare into his beautiful eyes (I am not ashamed to admit that). But I went for it.
Until we ended it.
We lasted four years together. From high school to long-distance entering college. We were not a power couple, but we kept our relationship confined behind closed doors. PDA was not our thing, thank the heavens.
We had spent the honeymoon of our relationship together like a kid with their new pair of fancy sneakers. We eventually phased out of the stage, but at separate times. He was first to ask for distance and — I did not take that well. I kind of broke up with him. *nervous emoji*
By kind of … I can’t really explain that. It’s complicated, as the saying goes.
Anyhow, I eventually phased out. It was still a bumpy ride with complicated and unnecessary breakups, or thinking about breaking up (from both our sides). I can recall the first time he told me he wanted to break up. I have to admit, I was hurt (despite the part I’ve played) and flabbergasted. I never thought he would simply because of how I knew he felt about me, then again, you have to do what you have to do.
Let me pause here for a minute. I do not want you reading on thinking I was toxic, hell no! He and I both had our ISSUES (caps well needed). So let’s be clear on that.
Now we may continue:
He had texted me he was thinking about it, but never clearly stated if we were or not. So, I gave him space. I.e., I didn’t text, I didn’t call. We didn’t talk for days. Eventually he texted me. Now I cannot recall exactly how he came to do so, but knowing him, he most likely pretended like nothing happened. Absolutely chill. Which meant, we stayed together.
I don’t want to focus on the complicated parts because we had our moments. Like our many movie nights at my house snuggled in each other’s arms.
On his birthday, I would take him out to Outback Steakhouse (his favorite place), and we would talk about literally nothing that made sense. But we had a blast with just us two.
He knows I am a huge chocolate fan, Crunch to be exact, so one day he surprised me with it. I know Crunch is just a chocolate bar, but I have always been a sucker for the little things. Nothing exaggerated or fancy. Plus, if you could see the memory from my perspective, you would be blushing right now.
He met my mother and granny; I met his parents and siblings. We all got along fine and occasionally he or I would have dinner at each other’s house. Sometimes his mother would take us out to BBQs or Dave and Busters (my mother would do the same). It was as if we were going to last forever, especially with his mother calling me “daughter-in-law.”
If I had to pick my favorite memory, it would be all the times we have walked around Manhattan and other parts of Brooklyn. We would start from our school and walk down to Times Square. Walking deeper into Manhattan, sometimes walking around until we hit the docks of Chelsea Piers.
Out of all the people in my life, he was someone I counted on. When I was upset or crying, he would be the one I turned to. I guess I can say he was my teddy bear, in the shape of a bunny (that is what I called him).
Unfortunately, when I went off to college, our conversations diminished little by little. By the time I reached my Sophomore year, we didn’t talk at all. Maybe like once in a blue moon, but the conversation was always short and nothing how it used to be — lively. By the time summer came, we texted and called it quits. Little to do with talking and more to do with our futures; where we saw ourselves.
It’s been about a year now, and I still haven’t cried over our breakup. Sad to say, but truthfully I wished I did.
We still do not talk, despite our breakup conversation saying we should be friends. Which I guess we still are, but just friends who have little to no communication with each other.
With all that said, I do not regret anything. All the drama and loving moments mean the world to me.
I know I did not cry, but as I mentioned: this was my first real relationship. Crying doesn’t define how I felt or feel about him or our relationship. I feel for the most part I didn’t cry because I didn’t regret anything. Along with the way we ended things; it wasn’t brutal. It was two people who loved each other ending things to do what was best for them.
Who knows maybe one day we will rekindle our spark or grab a bagel (maybe a steak?).
Anywho— my reader, if you are on the edge of a breakup: cry as you please, or — don’t cry. Either way, cherish the memories, try not to feel as if time was wasted. As someone once told me: don’t look back and don’t regret anything.
Relationships come and go; it will feel like the best you will ever have and some will feel like a skunk, not farted, but squirted shit all over your new shoes.
If you do choose to cry, I recommend chocolate ice cream (maybe sprinkle something crunchy on top).