Yup....and I don't know how I'm surviving without him. I am surviving.....borderline thriving. But it feels so shallow.
If you know me personally you’ll know I’ve been going through a breakup….a rocky one to say the least. The relationship was on and off for months. I invested more time and energy than I thought, and I don’t completely regret it. Actually, I should put out a disclaimer that I don’t hate this person at all. In fact they’re a wonderful person, our timing was just painfully off and we wanted different things in the end.
But the relationship I’ve been grieving hasn’t really been the romantic one, it’s been the loss of my best friend….my person.
See, as much as I’m talkative and seem extroverted, when it comes to personal matters I’m quite introverted. The root of this is my anxiety and depression, which reminds me about my lack of worth and then turns that into a “who would want to hear what’s been paining me lately anyway.”
And this man, he was my person who could see past all my “I’m fine” bullshit. He knew what was bothering me and how I covered up and masked my insecurities. This man knew when I opened the door and flew into his arms, randomly bursting into tears, that I just needed to be carried to my room and held. This is the man that knew how to make me laugh and put up with my snapchat streak needs. There were times where we couldn’t go days without sending each other ten memes. He would catch me up on Packer’s football and I’d recourse the recent episode of Jane the Virgin (it was a night when I told him she wasn’t a virgin anymore).
This is the man who I knew intimately about his insecurities and cover-ups, I saw him through some of his highest highs and lowest lows. He was the man who knew that just coming over and watching Netflix, because being out was too much for my anxiety, and letting me sleep in when I could because my sleep isn’t too consistent and he made sure I ate even though my meds and stress killed my appetite. I had some of the most brutally honest conversations in my life with this man. Without waxing too poetic, you get the point that he was my person.
And see, I’m out here in California by myself. I mean that, I have friends and some family out here, but he was my consistent factor. The person I could count on from the moment I woke up to have messages greeting me to the moment I fell asleep talking to him to make sure he got home safely from practice. See he wasn’t just my boyfriend…or whatever. He was my best friend. And that’s gone now.
We’re not on speaking terms and honestly I can’t help but feel this is what’s best for him. He was older than me. I’ve accepted I’ll probably just be written off as a young fling that was possibly too much of a burden…or at least more than he expected. He’s going to be eons happier with someone probably around his age and more accomplished and settled. Someone he’ll want to take home to his parents and introduce to his nephew and sister, move into an apartment with and live a wonderful life.
It kills me to think about that.
See I’ve been taught by my parent’s example and my grandparent’s and family and literature and media….you marry your best friend. Not just someone who you look at and want to jump their bones and go all “Notebook” with. You marry the person who you can look at in the morning, messy hair, acne, mismatched PJ’s and can’t wait until you can count the moments until you can hear them laugh. You want them to laugh and start their day with a smile because when they come home after work and activities, they might not be in the best mood, but you’ll be able to comfort them and then start the morning all over with.
And again, I could go on and on about various scenarios in which your best friend is your partner in life. And I know, I’m young, I have a whole life ahead of me. But depression and anxiety aside, I get lonely so fast.
I want to come home from a day at work and throw on my PJ shorts before dancing around the kitchen cooking dinner and waiting for my best friend to get home so I can tell him all about the mundane to the quirky parts of my day. I want to hear how his day was and game plan for paying bills and saving towards a vacation. Talking about where to go hiking this weekend and seeing if we can get out of some random plan we half committed too. I want to fret about what bottle of wine to bring to his parent’s house and I want a best friend to listen to me ramble on and on about my ideas for my nonprofit and that one TV show everyone watched a few years ago and I’m just starting now.
Replacing a best friend is impossible. And dating, honestly, is terrible. I want to speed through all the “let me be perfect while getting to know you” phase and get to the “not wearing makeup, we just took a three hour nap but we gotta meet your brother for drinks at bdubs” stage.
Internet dating is terrible. Being treated like a piece of meat who is meant to be ogled and eye-fucked is so demeaning. I’m already insecure about my appearance, the thought that I’m just some mental spank bank material grosses me out to the extreme. Ladies, any man who prioritizes that aspect of you should seriously be reconsidered.
I’m not asking for an engagement or a last name. I want a best friend, who encourages me and supports me, even when I’m at my weirdest or lowest. They make me a priority and have a goofy stupid smile when they wake up next to me like “holy crap I can’t believe I get to wake up next to this frizzy haired adorable quirky dork.” And I want to do that for them right back. I want to be someone’s biggest cheerleader. I want to be someone’s best friend. Is that so much to ask….
No comments:
Post a Comment