A breaking heart was the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life. But that only happened when I was 15, when I found out my first boyfriend cheated on me with his ex girlfriend of 2 years ago. As I grew older and dated more boys and lesser men, my heart began to grow colder and icier as I gave my love away to all those boys I've dated, had a fling with, played the actress, was the puppet for nearly 3 years, I never seemed to be able to cry any more.
Just like what one of my favourite songs said: "It's not like I'm a slut / Or that I really like to fuck / I just want every boy I see / To walk away with part of me / Until there's nothing left to hold / Until there's nothing left to hate / I appreciate your help / But even you can't save me from myself"
History repeated once again with my most recent relationship - is it even a relationship or was it a friends with benefits? I was confused by the grey areas and boundaries we crossed, it was strange, and I realized what I fell for was not him, but the chase. The exhilirating sense of challenge to claim something, the ability to always get what I want, I crave that sense of adventure. I sought, I negotiated with him for a second chance after he left, spurred by the fact that I wanted to take responsibility for my errors, but I was rejected twice, and I gave it up. We would've expired anyway, why prolong the pain, I ask myself. Then I realized, I'm in love with my madness, too intoxicated in my sadness to believe in happiness.
This place is where I tell the truth. No matter how raw and blunt it is, these are my thoughts, uncensored, unfiltered, sporadic, inconsistent. I admit that I put down my dignity and gave up my pride, because I thought he was more than that, until the thoughts that came when my meds wore off, I realized he was nothing more than another one of those boys that I will laugh about in weeks to come.
Since the break up (or rather an end to our dating, whatever you call it), I haven't shed a single tear. A good friend tells me that meant subconsciously, physically, I don't give a shit about him leaving. It was the psychological dependence that hurt, it was the friendship and constant contact we had that hurt because it was going to end. My revelation came when I recalled a moment in pages of my memories where I lost a friend due to the same reason, and the agony felt the same. So was I never attracted to him romantically before? I constantly question myself. Were we ever romantically interested in each other? Or was it because we were both lonely because now he's reconciled with his ex girlfriend? Or was it because it was plain ol' hormones? Boredom?
I know I shouldn't ponder upon this issue, but it's mystfying. Because once those meds shut out the thoughts and voices in my head, I lose my sense of clarity and the gifts of depression has given. The acute awareness, the heighten sensitivity, the need to solve puzzles almost like a Rubik's complex. I think I was just obsessed with finding out what real intimacy is like, because I've never managed to enjoy it as a child, especially with male figures.
I know my mother's relationship with me is extremely good: we love each other deeply, we share our secrets, but there are darker things I could never tell her. I want to know someone who would have the kind of intimacy with me that I will have no fear to share with them and I have met that person ---- and left him, 7 months later. I really am a monster, destroyinng the people I love. I'm glad to see that he's still going on strong with his 2-3 year long girlfriend right after me, having spoken to him as a friend to catch up.
I don't think I'm really ready to give up my singlehood yet. Even though I was dating him at that point of time, I was juggling 3 other dates and it was stifling. I'm a serial dater, I'd admit it. But it isn't cheating, because there was no real official relationship, was there? What do you think? My logic is always simple: you either make the move for me after I've initiated, because if you don't, I'd be gone before you know it.
My apathy has brought me a long way away from anguish and pain. Not that there were none but they lessened through my adolescence. And I wonder: is this coldness a good or bad thing?
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