In this current moment, I’m sitting at the kitchen table across from my mama, eating ‘breakfast’. It is almost 10:30 or so, but I feel the intuitive need to write everything down. Although I have a whole plethora of things to get accomplished before work today, it’s about damn time I organize my deep-seated thoughts and feelings. Most importantly, I believe it’s imperative that I disclose my innermost sentiments, not only to you, my love, but also to myself. I hope you know that it’s not my intent to inflict harm or pain, but I feel that I MUST inherently discuss the rocky predicament in which I currently find myself standing in front. Albeit unorganized and slightly chaotic, here it is, my stream of consciousness about ‘us’:
Of course, the psychology behind my parents’ relationship affects me in more ways than one—likely in ways that I cannot explicitly explain nor even fully comprehend. For an extended period of time now, that is precisely the way I have consciously described the situation at hand. “I don’t like you because I physically cannot’. Which, truth be told, is an overly simplified and childish way to characterize the dilemma at hand. I automatically presumed that I couldn’t because I was fearful because I don’t want to end up like my parents, because sometimes they scare the living crap out of me, and because their relationship gives me dreadful bouts of occasional anxiety. Out of fear and possibly spite, I couldn’t possibly like you—I don’t want a traditional and docile relationship, I don’t believe in gender roles, I don’t believe in religion, and most significantly, I don’t believe in the institution of marriage. Every intimate relationship is, somehow, intrinsically tied to them, my parents—but again, that is a childish, immature, and self-deprecating characterization grounded in my most prominent and withstanding insecurities. Regardless, I am NOT ‘damaged goods’ and, although, I grew up in a depraved, vile household with an incredibly strained family dynamic I, as a mature and introspective adult can largely, if not entirely, separate myself from that unfortunate situation. I’m sure its effects are withstanding, but it no longer causes me woeful pain, for I am now better equipped to ameliorate those repercussions. As such, that submissive, self-conscious, unassertive, and mousy little girl no longer exists.
With that being said, although I fluctuate—some days I miss you and some days you barely cross my mind—I think you’re a great and compassionate human, but I don’t necessarily believe we’re meant to be ‘great’ together. I think all is seemingly perfect on paper: I love that you like kids, I love that you’re a nanny, I love that you’re pursuing a profession that aims to nurture and aid others, I love that you’re not a huge ‘party person’, I love that you’re empathetic and accepting to all, I love that we both have similar goals and similar viewpoints, I love that you sit through and actively listen to my innumerable rants about my political perspectives, social ignorance and other oppressive systems, and I love that we stem from similar roots, so we instinctually relate SO MUCH to one another. Of course, I am certainly not one to rush into things, but as a mature and meticulous individual, such thoughts have, indeed, crossed my mind. In bouts of reflection and contemplation, I wholeheartedly believe we would have a nice, comfortable, homey life together, but, within the present moment, I want more than just comfort and routine. Selfishly so, I want a life full of excitement, thrill, and adventure. I wish to explore and experience all the opportunities on the metaphorical table, if you will. As a young, motivated, and career-oriented young woman that is something I necessitate, rather than just merely want.
Women, I think, are generally socially advised to accept guys that are NOT douchebags, men that are respectful, kind, and compassionate. We are programmed and conditioned to expect inconsiderate, arrogant behavior. If they treat you well, you should be with them—but that is very lethal and backhanded advice. You’re a wonderful man, my love, but we lack depth, we lack the butterflies, the excitement, we lack passion, we lack exhilaration, but most importantly, we lack connection and bond. Our relationship is comfortable, but most definitively, shallow and frigid. Our conversations are uninspired: mundane, shallow, lacking both depth, flow, and profound, abstract thought. Which, of course, is partially my doing, but I want a ‘love’ that pushes me, challenges me, and opens me up to a plethora of new experiences and opinions. Truthfully, I appreciate that you like me for just me, the way I am in this current moment, but I want someone who challenges me, inspires me and motivates me to become both a better and more compassionate, well-rounded individual. I wholeheartedly know that I, on small-scale, do that for others, but, selfishly so, I want someone who does that for me too. In other words, I want someone who will, in turn, help me impact the world for the better, mitigating the effects of all that is cruel, discriminatory, and unjust. Moreover, I want a relationship that genuinely makes me feel happy and thankful, and, regrettably, I am not certain we will ever reach that point hand in hand.
Unlike two years ago, I am, indeed, ready for a serious, committed, yet fun-loving relationship, BUT our relationship doesn’t necessarily always pull at my heartstrings.
I cannot explicitly explain everything; I cannot explain why we aren’t supposedly on the same page. In the same way, I cannot explain why your love is constant and enduring, while mine is fluctuating and irregular. All I can really say is that I’m not flooded nor besotted, nor do I consider myself spoken for. That may very well be partially a protective guard, but I think, in the end, we’re largely better going about our separate lives as good friends, if that’s at all possible. Years down the road, I surely don’t want to feel ‘stuck’ in an unhappy rut. I don’t want to have a traditional, conservative relationship. I don’t want any stereotypical judgments of what I am and what I am not. I don’t want to be a ‘domesticated’ wife whose sole joy stems from her significant other and her children—and although, that is years down the windy, unknown road, I know that is NOT something I aspire for.
I never meant to string you along, and I hope you sincerely know that. I care about you immeasurably. I want to stay good friends, but you deserve better than what I can presently offer. You deserve to be loved passionately, deeply. You deserve to be known, accepted and appreciated. And, unfortunately, I think that is something I’m not capable of fully offering. Albeit selfishly, I don’t want to say goodbye—you’ve been such a great, accepting, and friendly companion, but I do not think we’re the best of people together. We’re both incredibly young, so I wholeheartedly want you to explore every optimal opportunity. I want you to find someone better. And as simply or as complicated as that is, that is all.
Such words have never left my lips, but I love you and, therefore, I am obliged to say the following: you deserve more than a half-assed and inadequate ‘maybe’ or ‘possibly’. I hope you take care of yourself—I’ll always be here for you. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, but I cannot personally give that to you in this current moment. I’m not sure where this leaves us exactly. I don’t know if I should, for your sake, stay in a relationship in which I cannot match my partner’s feelings, in which I am only momentarily present. We both deserve a ‘fairy-tale’ love, and with all that I internally possess, I hope you find happiness, self-satisfaction, love, and a home. I hope you obtain everything you’ve ever wanted. I hope you lead a life you’re proud of, and I hope you enjoy all of life’s innate beauty. I hope you find all that you’re looking for. And above all, I hope you are not bitter.
I LOVE YOU.
“Ends once looked horrible, they’d terrify my trembling heart. After years, I laugh about it, for now it seems, each end brought a better start.” –Noor Unnahar