Lately, I've been bored. Bored with dating, bored with the studying I've been doing, bored of the gym, bored of work, and bored of trying to push myself into feeling something, anything at all. For the last few weeks, I've woken up every day and laid in bed longer than I wanted because there wasn't anything driving me to get out of bed. I'm on a path at the moment where I"m finding my own purpose and I few finding your purpose a lot like losing weight; sometimes you plateau but eventually you get back on course. So, I know that eventually I'll find my motivation again. It will come back to me, I know it will. So, I know that I'll, at the very least, figure out what it is I want to be doing with my life and the motivation will come back for work and the gym, and I'll know that I'm doing what I love. But when it comes to love, I'm not sure if I will actually try it again. I go back and forth about it a lot, but lately, it just seems too difficult to make a connection with anyone. I've found myself "in like" with someone, but I don't know if I have any interest in turning it into something more. Like anything else, it could, but it could also fail.
My first relationship that I consider to be part of my adult life ended very horribly. Luckily, that man is one of my dearest friends now. He knows me better than most people as he's been a solid part of my life for the last 15 years. We were young, naive, and thought we knew better than everyone else. We found ourselves in a situation of not being able to communicate properly and we were significantly unhappy. He was traveling into Manhattan every week to visit me from Long Island, where he lived after college with his family. The rough streets of NYC were taking their toll on me, as was the stress of him living with his family and things just began to unravel. We began to fight quite a bit, and never really enjoyed being with each other. I began to withdraw from him, and he from me. But I was twenty-three and how could love not be enough? So I did the most logical thing and I bought a ring. I know, so cliche right? "A ring? Are you fucking kidding me?" That's probably what everyone is thinking right now reading this. But for real, I bought a ring.
I didn't plan a big proposal because I wanted it to come from something spontaneous. My ex was a pretty crazy and pedantic person, so I thought the most fitting proposal would be one that seemed to come from nowhere. It was the perfect plan. We had been planned to spend some time out on Long Island and then come to the city to have a good time, which we did. The whole day, I kept the ring in my pocket and just knew in my heart that the right moment would just present itself. Fortunately, it never did. We made it back to my apartment that night and I felt the ring in my pocket and thought to myself, "well, there's always tomorrow." And just as I thought this, he looked at me and said, "I think we're done."
I was stunned. "What do you mean?" I questioned him hard. Done as in, for the day, or us in general? It was us in general.
He went on to tell me that he'd been unhappy for a long time, and somehow we'd lost our ability to talk to one another. He reassured me how pretty I was and that I'd have no trouble finding a replacement boyfriend. But a replacement wasn't what I wanted. Mostly, I just wanted my money back for the ring. Which lead me to know in my heart that it wasn't right. We hugged and I sent him on his way. The next day I called the company I bought the ring from and they accepted the return. So, I lucked out. But my life felt a little bit empty and my heart hurt felt a little hallow.
It took a few years after that relationship for me to feel comfortable being with someone again. Eventually, it happened, because I knew that it would. We were perfect on paper. Yet, I struggled to commit. Would this end as badly as the last one? Would this be better? Do I even want this? The answer ended up being yes to all three questions I asked myself. I knew I was in trouble when I met this kind man. He disrupted my plan to spend the rest of my twenties single. His smile and warmth were disarming. And his ability to just roll with my fear of commitment was surprising. So I gave in and committed.
Six years, three apartments, and one dog later, I found myself in familiar territory; living in silence. Of course we were best friends, but we'd lost that thing that made us special. I know all of this in hindsight. Going through it, I thought we'd just hit a rough patch along the way, as couples tend to do. For me, I thought we just needed a little time to set ourselves back on track. But he just wanted out. Shortly before the end, we had discussed our lease renewal in NYC and we signed on for one more year, and decided that one year later, we would make the big move the west coast. So of course I thought, "Great, we're on the same page, we're planning this big life decision together, and we can do this." I was convinced that it was all going to just work out. I knew it in my heart that it would. Which made me happier to know that the week before I had ordered a David Yurman ring because I was planning a proposal to him that summer. IT was to be on the day we decided to be committed to one another six years prior. And yes, I was going to do a flashmob, but he was going to be in it. He had once told me he'd always wanted to be in one. So I thought, "how fun, he can be in it, and I'll just show up to 'watch' and then it will turn into this beautiful proposal." It was also going to be on the brooklyn bridge, because we went on this fun adventure date shortly after we started dating and we walked the bridge and got lost and had a wonderful day.
But the proposal never happened. The day after the ring arrived, I'd had it sent to work so he wouldn't know about it, we got home from a friends birthday celebration and everything just fell apart. I asked him if we were ok and everything came spilling out. MY biggest fear became my biggest reality. I had been so certain that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. So much more certain than I'd been ten years ago that I could not believe this was happening at this moment. How had I gotten it so wrong? Indeed I had.
Shortly after, I moved out of our home, and left behind a life that I was so committed to. I packed up my things and moved not once, but three times after that to find a home for myself. But I finally settled into a place that I feel like myself again.
So the rings. The first man I mentioned I believe knows about the ring. I think I told most people that I pawned it off. But I took my returned money and bought myself a keyboard. I'd been wanting one for so long, I was finally able to just buy it. The more recent man knows nothing about the ring I bought for him or knew of my plans for proposing, and probably won't ever know, unless he reads this. But his ring I kept for awhile. I didn't know if we'd get back together or not, so I didn't want to just get rid of it. I debated several things to do with it. I thought of pawning it off, but it just didn't feel right. I also thought of throwing it away, but that didn't feel right either. Then, I remember something I did a long time ago.
After he and I had gone on this adventure date, I went back to the bridge and put up a love lock. For those of you who don't know, there's a spot on the Brooklyn Bridge where people put engraved locks proclaiming their love for someone. So, on what would have been our seventh anniversary, I went back to the lock, unlocked it, attached the ring, and locked it back on the bridge. I took the key in my hand for a moment, and then threw it into the river. I figured that I didn't need it anymore, and I certainly didn't need the ring anymore. Yes, I could have made some money off of it, but I just didn't want to have money because of something so sad to me.
I walked back to manhattan a seemingly whole person again. My therapist had been the only person I'd told about the ring and he had told me that when I was ready to let go of the ring, I'd be able to let go of the future I would never have. I could finally take the steps towards having the life that began from this moment, as opposed to the life I was living and holding onto my mistakes. I felt like my old self even more. Even now, three months later, I feel complete in my decision and slowly feel the old sense of myself returning.
And in that moment of clarity, I realized that I was done. When people talk about love to me, I feel nothing. I don't feel disgusted, or inspired, or romantic. I express my fondness for their cuteness, but in general I just don't fell anything now. I"m just numb to it all. I find it completely uninteresting. And I don't foresee it happening in my future. Which, don't mistake for being jaded and unhappy, because I'm quite content with my life. I have a lot of love to give and I do give it away freely to my friends and my family. But when it comes to romantic love, I just don't think it's quite right for me. And that's ok.
If someone comes along and changes my mind, great. But if not, that's fine too. I will be just fine on my own. So riggle me that.
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