Current doses of happiness: yellow tulips, cauliflower gnocchi, St. John’s Wort, my favourite rosewater and gardenia candle, and this Loops facemask.
Did you ever think that the feeling of being cared for would feel so foreign?
This is something I wish I could warn my younger self.
I’m going to be completely honest with you. In my eight year reign of being single, I have only let one man hold me throughout the night. I don’t even think I let my ex-boyfriend (who I was with for six years prior to this reign) hold me the entire night. In fact, I always remember leaving the bed to sleep on the couch at 3 AM. I used to attribute this to feeling too hot, but now I believe it was something more.
The first (and, up until recently, last) man that I let myself fall asleep in his arms was OFM. And this is something my best friend reminds me of often.
“He is the only one you ever let hold you.”
In all of the one-nights, the situationships, the friends with benefits - whatever it is that you want to call it - I will:
A. Tell them I have brunch plans in the morning so they need to (respectfully) gtfo :) :) :)
B. I will personally see myself out before falling asleep even happens
OR:
C. They will personally see themselves out before falling asleep even happens
I always surprise myself with OFM, but I don’t really. Because no matter what happens, I always want to feel his arms around me. And maybe this is because our moments are so few and far between. But he never feels close enough. And he will snore into my hair. And he will apologize for snoring. Even if he makes the slightest movement, I will turn to face him, half asleep and say, “Wait. Where are you going?” And he will smile, half asleep, and pull me in closer. Even after everything, after all of it - I still feel safe in his arms. I know the trajectory of our relationship, and maybe, that’s why I feel safe, too. It is predictable, that it won’t work out, and maybe there is some comfort in that. But there is still love there.
So I will let him hold me. I will always let him hold me.
To my surprise, I end up spending the night at MFB’s. And to my surprise, I want to. I know this is only the second night we’ve hung out - and I have no idea what constitutes as normal anymore. I try to play it back - when did my first sleepover with OFM happen? It must have been our fourth or fifth. What are the rules when it comes to this? I’m so anti-rules. I’m so anti-regulations. But it feels like I should be following something.
I still can’t figure out if he likes me. And here’s what I’ve learned - a guy can like you, sleep with you, and want to date you. A guy can like you, sleep with you, and not want to date you. A guy can not like you and still want to sleep with you. And we, as girls, can do exactly the same thing. Exactly.
But for the first time, in a long time, I’m confused as to what I want. I’m not at my place, so I won’t use the brunch excuse. Nor do I want to. I know that I want to see him again, but I’m also…a giant question mark. I’m not this comfortable, this easily. And that’s what’s really scaring me.
“I just think…like. I obviously want to…but I just don’t know…” I blurt out mid make out.
He looks at me, right in the eye. Hand against my cheek. “Hey - you don’t have to explain yourself.”
Well. In that moment, I knew. Any morsel of hesitation and confusion immediately left my body. I knew his vintage t-shirt and his grey sweats were not going to come off of my body fast enough.
There’s something about certain people that you can’t explain. The comfortability of vulnerability - maybe that’s it. And maybe it was his admittance early on, that he doesn’t feel worthy of real love. Because I understand that feeling, too. It was what, I believe OFM was trying to say when he said we were both too similar.
“Very emotionally intelligent people, but both very emotionally fucked up”.
Somewhere along the past 8 years, I didn’t lose faith in love. But I lost faith in believing in other people’s capacities to love me. I lost faith in men. And I know this. I can easily pinpoint certain events that lowered the trust that I had within myself, in choosing romantic partners. I looked at the relationships I had with the male figures in my life. Abandonment. Walking on eggshells. Performing. The repetitive third parties of the Romans. The constant feeling of objectification that followed. The men who acted like a friend, but always wanted something more.
I remember two separate dates I went on, when both guys (sensing something) asked me, “Do you trust men?” To which I looked both of them in the eye, point blank, and said: “No.”
I never felt safe. And if something felt too good to be true, I found that it usually was.
In the morning, I fall asleep in MFB’s arms. And even though it was only the second time I hung out with him, I almost let the “Wait. Where are you going?” slip. He kisses me on the forehead. And I don’t know. I don’t know if he will stay or if he will go, and I don’t know if I will stay or if I will go.
I tell him I should probably leave.
“I have things to do.” I lie.
“You have nothing to do.” He tells me, and pulls me in closer.
Where is it supposed to go? Where is it all supposed to go?
Well, maybe it’s all supposed to be exactly what it is.
Moments of vulnerability, moments of mirroring. Feeling out the same lessons. Experiencing the same person, just in a different body.
The thing is, I can’t picture my life any different. I wouldn’t trade any of these experiences. All of these almosts and what ifs - for the world. I know I am living the life I want to live, the life I am meant to live.
This is my destiny. I cannot be convinced otherwise.
“how lucky are we” is tattooed on my left forearm. OFM tells me it’s his favourite tattoo of mine. I got it the day before we first met up in October. The first time I had seen him after four years.
Luck. Coincidences. Fate. Destiny. Can we change the pathways of stories that are destined to end? Tell new stories from old experiences?
Are those who let themselves find real love, and those who let themselves hold on to it - just lucky?
And when I close my eyes, when I rest my head on his chest. When all I see is darkness. I wonder what he is thinking. I wonder what he remembers.
And I wonder if anyone out there is listening.
The song, ah! I forgot how much I love it. Beautiful words, as always!