***written November 2014 but I forgot to publish it oops…I still stand by it though. Newer posts to come soon***
For the past 6 months, almost exactly, I’ve been wanting to see one of my best friends but not been able to. I’m honestly not even sure why. And the other day I finally did, and I’m happy, but the results were not what I was expecting.
I’ve been saying lately that I have no expectations of anyone, which is more or less true, but I still have expectations of myself. I expect to feel certain ways and say certain things in different situations.
And that didn’t happen.
I was so just beyond anxious the entire time, partially because of the setting but partially just because I didn’t know what was happening. And then me feeling that way scared me even more, making me even more anxious, because that normally doesn’t happen. Normally I feel at peace. He’s my oldest friend and one of the only people I feel truly safe around. I don’t want to lose that feeling.
I also don’t remember that night that well, even though I was completely sober and it was THREE DAYS AGO. Maybe that’s an anxiety thing? Who knows. I’ve been noticing that a lot lately with important moments. I remember bits and pieces but not nearly as much as I want to.
But aside from that, this is all kind of good. This is exactly what we need. We’re trying to be something we’ve never successfully been before, so I need to feel things I’ve never felt. We used to date and now he’s with someone else, and if I am to not completely lose my cool, things can’t be perfect. It has to be good but not THAT good. The magic has to disappear. And it did. It took me a long time to admit that.
If this feeling continues, well, that’s a bad sign. I can’t allow that type of anxiety to breed, especially at this time of year, or it will start to destroy the career that I have worked so hard for. Right now, that is my priority. I’ve reinvented myself, and no one else was in that picture as a permanent fixture except my family and my room mates.
But I think it will slowly get better and easier over time. Eventually we’ll figure out how things are going to be and I’ll know what I can expect. Eventually the trust will come back.
At least we’re trying. That’s all I really care about right now. I never wanted to be someone who gives up.
I believe that magic can take many forms. I’ve experienced magical moments in my career that made me nearly cry, moments that felt like signs. I’ve experienced magic when meeting new people who I just knew would be friends, who came into my life at precisely the right moment. And once upon a time when we were kids he and I genuinely were just friends, and maybe we had feelings for each other under the surface but we had our own brand of magic then too. And though it will never be the same as that or any of our other stages, I believe that we can evolve now the same way we did then.
All I can say is that even if I’m wrong and those things never happen, the magic that we used to have is still with me in past tense. It’s part of me – it’s the voice in my head that tells me not to settle for anything less, that anything could happen, that inspires me in everything that I do. It’s the voice behind my writing and the reason for my career.
And the book that I’m writing is my way of turning that magic into something that exists in the present tense, too. Something that I’m beginning to hope will get me somewhere, but even if it doesn’t, I’m still proud of it and the writing process has helped me in so many ways.
It’s entirely possible that I can only be in relationships with people who I have been close friends with for a while (there’s a term for that – demiromantic, look it up), and it’s entirely possible that I will not find another male best friend again, especially considering that I regard all men with suspicion. It’s even more possible that even if I do find more people that I feel that way about, they won’t feel the same way back, because there are so many things about me that are unconventional and hard to understand.
And though I don’t want to put myself in a box or limit my opportunities, it’s somewhat helpful to recognize that what I’ve always suspected about myself may actually be true. And that it’s a real thing that I could potentially be, not just me being shy or picky or stuck in the past or lacking confidence or whatever.
It’s really unsettling to accept that things between us are never going to change in the way that I want them to, especially in the face of that. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that part of the anxiety comes from this place of worrying about the future.
I might never find someone. I keep saying that I might die alone, for lack of a better phrase, and I know that’s nothing to joke about but for some reason it makes me feel better. The truth is that evidence is mounting to suggest that, but I want to die alone having created something that lives out of everything that had to die. I won’t let all of those years fade away into oblivion. It was too important for that.
So I’ll keep writing and I’ll keep trying to build something new for as long as I can without risking everything I already have. I’ll keep pushing through the awkwardness and insecurity and anxiety. If we’re redefining ourselves and our relationship, who’s to say that I can’t write the definition in the same way that I’m writing our story?
I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me
And every day is like a battle,
But every night with us is like a dream
Baby we’re the new romantics
Come on, come along with me
Heartbreak is the national anthem
We sing it proudly
We are too busy dancing
To get knocked off our feet
Baby, we’re the new romantics
The best people in life are free.