Two days ago, I received possibly the biggest emotional jolt I’ve ever received. A person I have loved for a long time officially said she was moving on. Four months ago, she had said something completely different. It’s shocking how realisations can dawn upon in 4 months, shedding to dust something so wonderful.
I’ll save details for this moment, because what good would they do. I just want to focus on the immediate feeling that I felt when she confessed that she was moving on and why my feelings were wrong. I’ve done many wrongs while being with her, some of them I can’t dare tell her, have not (and now will not dare) dared to tell her; it would have broken her, but I don’t think they matter now. So let’s focus on the immediate feeling I felt when she told me. But before that some background.
We were classmates from 1st grade til 4th grade. She made me spell Rain right. That is perhaps the most emotional memory attached of her to me. We never talked after that until we found each other on Facebook in 12th grade. I’ll spare more details because I’m inclining towards trying to relive memories we have had, which is pushing me to write everything about us, but that is only going to hurt a little. So I’ll refrain.
Lately I’ve started realising I might be identifying myself as asexual. Before you start forming ill informed ideas about what and who an asexual person is, listen to this podcast. She told me in 12th grade, that she really liked me. Because I’d never had been with a girl before, I was tempted to say yes, irrespective of whether I really did like her. I didn’t even ask myself that. I fell for that temptation and told her that I did too. That was the biggest mistake I’ve made towards a person. Sure it lead to wonderful things, I’ll probably talk about some of them below, but the fact that I didn’t ask her early on what she expected of me, is because of which what happened two days ago, happened.
I’ve never been able to explain to her what I expected of her, because I hate labels of relationships, I tend to run away from them. So I’ve always told her so — that I do not like to think that we were in a relationship. I hated thinking about the future, of what would entail when we wouldn’t be kids anymore, when we would come of age to marry, when after a time it would be difficult to convince our families otherwise. I hated it all. On the other hand, she has always labelled our love in a relationship, she thought of the future in way which makes me feel guilty — I should have intervened to make things clear before.
In all these years, we have shared so many good and bad memories, thoughts, feelings, fights, it’s difficult to let go. But the most wrong thing that I couldn’t let go of was, that I couldn’t believe she was the same person that I had known for more than 10 years. I was adamant of the fact that she couldn’t be the one “breaking up” (emphasis on the quotes). She loved me. All those emotional stretches of I will wait for you, were and are false. And why should they not be. The first picture that made my mind fuck up was the thought of some other guy she would allow to touch her. It fucked up my mind really bad.
Then I gathered up the courage to have a talk with myself. I think that is the best thing I could have done in this circumstance. I asked myself why she should not, for once, have the choice to leave, when it had been so troubling living with expecting different things out of each other. I have always been the one making decisions, taking calls. I’m made to remember these lines from a lovely song You Took Advantage Of Me —
I suffer something awful each time you go
And much worse when you’re near.
This is what has happened over and over because of different expectations.
Why not let her make the call of action now? I wanted something that was not labelled, with no future talks, with no marriage talks, with only the friendship that came by rock solid automagically, and anything romantic that came out naturally. She wanted other things, as I said. We happened to click so snazzily and automagically, it was difficult to let go.
4-5 months ago, when the talks about the future were coming forth, I told her indirectly about my inclinations of being asexual (little hint — I do tend to not like sex at all, funny thing? Na. Do I have romantic and amorous feelings for people? Yes. Do I love kissing, touching? Yes. If that’s confusing for you to understand, listen to the podcast I linked above). We decided that it was time. We stopped messaging and talking to each other, and left. 5 months after that, two days before, when I was, for some reason, very feverishly missing her, I showed her what I had been writing about her these 5 months. She responded with not a single word. That’s when I realised something was up. We’ve had separations before, we have always had a truce, but for what? To run a complete cycle again, for the worse? What was I thinking, that everything will be fine? Fool! She told me then that she didn’t know how, but she had moved on, because she couldn’t possible imagine going all over it again. Yet it was difficult for me to let go. I think I’m just very sensitive. I just didn’t know I was.
I asked her wasn’t it unfair that our friendship, which I don’t think I will ever have something even close, something like I did with her, with anyone else ever, got cut just like that. She made it clear that it was difficult for her because she had always expected more and both friendship and a relationship together. So it was all or nothing.
I’ve been letting go of a person I’ve so dearly loved to not talk to her ever again. I’ve been having trouble working. Kacey Musgraves has been keeping me sane. The fact that she has become so casual about it, is what has been making letting go difficult. But then, how far could it have gone, it was headed for a doom for someday. That happened 2 days back. In an inexplicable and ineffable rage, I deleted all my social media accounts, deleted all her numbers to prevent myself from wistfully checking out her profile pictures and Instagram stories and such, to prevent myself from ever fall for the temptation of trying to talk to her again, like I did 2 days ago. It’s time to move on. Ah!