I haven’t written here in a while because my love life has taken an incredible turn for the worse. Let me start from the beginning, though.
Almost 8 months ago, in September 2012, I started dating a guy who I’d been friends with since October 2011 (we met in university, and we’re both studying Law). In fact, he’d been interested in me ever since we met, but he’d never had the courage to do anything – which is actually a good thing, seeing as I wasn’t interested in him until September/October ’12.
ANYWAY. We’ve broken up twice already, and it’s always because of the same thing: he’s too clingy. Just toooooo clingy. But then, you know, I start missing him, and I think ‘maybe we can compromise’ and, for a while, we can. But then we don’t. Then it gets worse, and worse, and he keeps insisting to be together, and the more he insists, the less I feel like being with him.
It’s such a huge, unnecessary mess, and I know we’re better off without each other. He says I’m always putting everyone else in front of him (which is not true), and he unfortunately lives his life around me, and always has me as his first priority. I don’t want a relationship like that! Also, um … I kind of NEED to study and to hang out with other people but him.
Seriously, I just need you all to colectively say: break up. Break up. And maybe I’ll get the courage to break his fragile little heart again and to feel guilty when news of him drinking too much and not focusing on his exams reach my ears.
I haven’t written here in a while because my love life has taken an incredible turn for the worse. Let me start from the beginning, though.
Almost 8 months ago, in September 2012, I started dating a guy who I’d been friends with since October 2011 (we met in university, and we’re both studying Law). In fact, he’d been interested in me ever since we met, but he’d never had the courage to do anything – which is actually a good thing, seeing as I wasn’t interested in him until September/October ’12.
ANYWAY. We’ve broken up twice already, and it’s always because of the same thing: he’s too clingy. Just toooooo clingy. But then, you know, I start missing him, and I think ‘maybe we can compromise’ and, for a while, we can. But then we don’t. Then it gets worse, and worse, and he keeps insisting to be together, and the more he insists, the less I feel like being with him.
It’s such a huge, unnecessary mess, and I know we’re better off without each other. He says I’m always putting everyone else in front of him (which is not true), and he unfortunately lives his life around me, and always has me as his first priority. I don’t want a relationship like that! Also, um … I kind of NEED to study and to hang out with other people but him.
Seriously, I just need you all to colectively say: break up. Break up. And maybe I’ll get the courage to break his fragile little heart again and to feel guilty when news of him drinking too much and not focusing on his exams reach my ears.
Alright, so I’m an awful girlfriend. My boyfriend forgot to log out of his Facebook on my laptop, so when I opened Facebook the next day … his account was just there. I couldn’t resist and saw the messages between him and a friend of his who is always flirting with him. I hate what I did and I really want to tell him, but should I?
The Ex-Boyfriend is, despite my strong attempts to not make it seem like it, a very touchy subject for me. Every time I mention him, I make it seem as though he has no importance to me whatsoever, but the truth is … he does.
I met the Ex-Boyfriend at the end of June 2008, through MSN Messenger. It was a time when I checked out my MSN friend requests on hi5 (yeah ..) and accepted or refused them based on whether they were cute and geographically close (or if, you know, I actually knew who they were). So, when his request came along and I realized that he lived in the same town I did, and didn’t look half bad, I obviously accepted.
He started talking to me right away, and after about one or two hours of continued conversation, he asked for my number. At the time, I was still testing the waters with the Clarinet Player, plus he was being incredibly annoying, so I simply gave him my number hoping he would stop talking and never remember me again. That didn’t happen.
Long story short: my best friend warned me against him, saying he was a ‘womanizer’; during the Summer of 2008, we exchanged several text messages and agreed to meet for coffee or ice cream several times, but I always ended up cancelling on him, giving fake excuses like ‘I’m going to the next town over with my parents’.
A couple of really marking events during that Summer were: once, I did go to the next town over with my parents (we lived there for almost 13 years) and, coincidence of all coincidences, he was spending a week there with his aunt and uncle. I was having dinner at a pizzeria near my former home with my parents when he texted me, asking if I was in that same town and neighbourhood, because he thought he saw a girl with hair like mine (it was really blonde, at the time, for some reason). I said that yes, I was, and that’s when he told me he was spending the week there, and how close his aunt’s house was to the pizzeria. When we left the pizzeria, he leaned over on his aunt’s balcony just to see me, and we waved at each other. It might seem like a small thing, but my heart beat really fast that day (let’s highlight the fact that, every day, I adamantly insisted that I wasn’t interested in him at all, nor would I ever be).
The second one happened near the end of August. There was a sort of festival going on in my town, called the ‘Youth Week’ (despite the fact that it was really only a weekend). During one of the nights, my philharmonic band was going to be performing, and he … went to see it. After the concert, I remember I was standing near the stage with a couple of my band mates, when he texted me saying he was nearby. I looked around (you know when you’ve only seen someone a couple of times and you’re not sure you’ll remember them?), trying to see if I recognized them, when suddenly I looked in front of me … and there he was, laughing cutely at me, with his mobile phone in hand. I smiled back at him, but we still didn’t talk.
The first time we ever had a conversation in person (and, you know, not through texting or MSN), was after classes started again. I was starting high school, as a 10th grader, and he was an 11th grader. We’d had a huge fight and stopped talking the day before he went on a week-long trip to Paris, because I’d found out he was texting his ex-girlfriend saying he wanted to get back together with her. I thought it was really wrong of him to constantly say he was interested in me and flirt with me all the time, when the entire time he just wanted to get back together with her.
After he returned from Paris, I texted him, apologizing to him for overreacting (it really was none of my business), and he made up this lame excuse, saying he just wanted to see if she’d cheat on her current boyfriend to see how bad she was. Whatever. I decided to look past it and all was good between us. And so, we decided to meet up on the next Wednesday afternoon (it’s common practice for no one to have classes on Wednesday afternoons in our town). It was the first time we ever had a personal conversation, and it was also the day we shared our first kiss (and make-out. It was obvious we were meeting up to make out, right?). As weird as it sounds, I never did forget the date: September 24th, 2008.
Being a musician myself, it’s normal that, from time to time (more like all the time) I find myself attracted to musicians. It’s a natural thing to happen, I think, seeing as music is such a big part of my life.
When I was fourteen years old, I joined the local town philharmonic band. Compared to the other band members, I was quite ‘old’ to start learning music and an instrument, but I got the hang of my flute in under four/five months. My best friend was in the band and … so was my at-the-time crush.
After I broke up with the Cuban, I didn’t really waste any time in moving on to greener pastures. About two weeks later, I was making plans to clandestinely make out with the Clarinet Player.
When I was 14, the Clarinet Player seemed very charming to me. He was already on his way to his 12th grade, I was just wrapping up 9th grade, and he played so well. He still does, actually – I hear he has a very promising future ahead of him in music, and I’m quite happy for him. At the time, he was quite a catch.
So, during the local fair, the Clarinet Player and I made plans to make out a little bit before heading there, after our 9pm band rehearsal. However, this plan wasn’t quite successful, seeing as we stupidly decided to do it near a parking lot where, coincidentally, our fellow band members had parked their cars. Needless to say, there was no making out, and we ended up getting a ride to the fair with some of those band members.
Finally, we made plans to make out exactly a week before my 15th birthday. I remember it because it was the birthday of one of my friends, whose birthday is always exactly one week before mine. I had made plans with my best friend to go to the pool but, before that, I was going to pay a quick trip to the band headquarters.
I don’t exactly remember how the make out session went. I know I felt really awkward because he was just so tall and suddenly uninteresting, and I just wanted to leave. He wasn’t a very good kisser either – his tongue was just … barely there, and I felt like an inexperienced kid all over again (although, that is exactly what I was).
When I was leaving, I think I looked a bit off, because he asked me what was wrong and my reply was ‘this wasn’t very good’. Then I simply left. Needless to say, we only talked with ‘those intentions’ in mind only one more time, and it led to nothing, especially because something incredibly pointless and complicated happened with that same friend whose birthday was exactly one week before mine – I think he was flirting with her or something and I got jealous, even though I had no reason for it.
In any case, my crush on him didn’t last long. After him, came my Ex-Boyfriend, the ultimate Ex-Boyfriend, and that’s when my life never quite became the same again.
I decided to write about jealousy for the simple fact that I’m feeling it right now. And I do mean right at this very moment.
So here’s the deal: less than a week ago, I broke up with my 3-month boyfriend because he was too clingy, too submissive, and he liked me way more than I would ever like him. However, we appear to have somehow remained friends (although I have my doubts on whether he’s just hopeful that I’ll go back to him again or if it’s really just friendship).
This evening, I was talking to him on Facebook (where else, right?) when he said he was going to go out to a popular nightclub in the city (despite the fact that he has an exam at 9 am tomorrow, but that’s really not my business) tonight. I was a little uncomfortable by it, only because he could actually pass the exam and he’s throwing it away to go out and get drunk, but 3 hours later and I suddenly remembered that, well … what if he hooks up with another girl?
I know how I am. When I decide that I’ve had enough of something and want to end it, I start coming up with reasons as to why I should, and end up saying thinks like: ‘I want to make out with other people’, ‘I don’t feel like spending time with him’, ‘I don’t really like him that much’, only to realize that I could have overcome the original problem and have a stable relationship after all.
So now I’m confused, jealous, and I’m not sure if I even have the right to be.
What do you think? Should I be jealous that he gets with another girl despite the fact that we’re over and I’m very determined so that we don’t get back together? Or is it normal and okay, as long as I don’t actually confront him about it?
The ‘Cuban’ was a meaningless (but kind of necessary at the same time) chapter of my life. You see, I was 14 years old and in my 9th grade. All of my friends were getting boyfriends and having their first kiss, they texted boys back and forth all the time, and I was just there, single and text-less. So, when I was sitting on the steps of my school one afternoon with my best friend and this new foreign student walked by and stared at me the entire time, I decided to take action.
I was 14, though, so when I say ‘take action’, I mean that people started spreading the word ‘oh, I hear Cuban is interested in Isis’ ‘I think she’s interested too’, blah blah, until it reached his ears. It all happened very fast, actually. He asked me to ‘take a walk around the school’ with him (unfortunately, it was how we all spent all of our recesses), told me he liked me, and kissed me.
My first kiss was nothing wonderful and romantic. It was just that, a kiss. I was inexperienced, so I basically just did whatever he did and prayed to God it was okay. It started open-mouthed right away, and then he just got his tongue in the mess and I just thought ‘to hell with it …’
We became boyfriend and girlfriend after that, but the relationship only lasted three or four months, until I graduated middle school and went to my 10th grade (first year of high school), leaving him behind. Oh right, did I mention he was one year younger than me, therefore in his 8th grade? Right. Also, I didn’t get a texting partner at all, because he didn’t even have a cellphone. I’m not sure he has one right now, actually.
During those three/four months, though, we spent many recesses holding hands and walking together, kissing but not really making out (14 year old me didn’t know the difference and thought kissing for a long time was the same thing as making out), and smoking together. Ahh, the joys of dating someone who also smokes.
In any case, on the last day of 9th grade exams, we had a talk and decided to break up, because the distance would be too big (I’m not even lying when I say our high school is 2 streets down from our middle school) and I’d find a high school guy to be interested in. This ended up being very true, actually. But, like all other stories, that is a story for another time.
As he told me that we had to break up, I got a little teary-eyed, but didn’t cry. Instead, I smiled at him, wished him good luck with everything, and went to meet my friends at the bar, where I cried about 5 tears, had a soda, a cigarette, and moved on to greener (or not, really) pastures.
‘Cuban’, although meaningless, marked the start of my dating life. And boy, what a life it has been! I can’t wait to tell you about it.
I had originally planned on this blog being filled with posts about my love life, in a chronological order. However, after I broke up with my (now ex-)boyfriend last night, I felt compelled to write a post about something slightly different. You see, I want to talk about second chances and about the three types of dating personalities.
Second chances are tricky and, in most cases, they don’t work out so well. The truth is, if you had to give someone a second chance, it’s because it hadn’t worked out the first time around. Yes, it’s by making mistakes that you learn, but in certain cases it’s not that simple. If it didn’t work out because of the person’s own personality, then it’s because you just don’t work out together, you’re not compatible. You can’t expect someone to change over you, just as someone else can’t expect you to change over them.
I was once told that, when it comes to relationships, there are three types of people: the ‘clingy’ ones, the ‘normal’ ones, and the ‘indifferent’ ones. For two whole years, I was in between the ‘clingy’ and ‘normal’ category, and I honestly thought it was fine to bother your boyfriend all the time with texts and wanting to be with him, and just generally obsessing over him. I was very dependent of him. Then, once we broke up, I radically moved to the ‘indifferent’ category.
And I have to say, the ‘indifferent’ category is the best. If you’re dating someone and they don’t give you a lot of attention, you don’t care, because you never really wanted it in the first place. It bothers you to constantly be ‘cute’ with someone, and you can basically do whatever you want without feeling any kind of remorse. But, of course, there is a bad side to it as well.
Sooner or later, you get tired of being ‘indifferent’. You want to feel what other people do, want what other people want, you want to date someone without getting sick and tired of them. The problem is, if you don’t date the right person, you get tired anyway. And you may not be in love with the not-right person, but you feel fond of them, and when the time to break up with them comes … you feel guilty about not feeling bad.
A ‘clingy’ person and an ‘indifferent’ person just don’t work out together. And no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you’ll be able to find a point of equilibrium … you can’t.
Love isn’t something you can easily define. In fact, I don’t think love can be defined at all. This happens because there are various types of love, and I don’t honestly think I can list them all, just as I can honestly say that I’ve never experienced them all.
The type of love that you commonly experience for the first time is definitely the love between a child and its parents. Children who are lucky enough to share that kind of bond and love with their parents and grow up in a loving environment will have an easier time opening up to other children and befriending them in the future. Or, at least, that’s what I assume – but what do I know?
Personally, I can’t complain. I grew up with both my mother and my father, and I always had the necessary love and support from them. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll continue to have it in the future.
If you have them, there is also the love you’ll feel for a sibling. Whether it’s an older sibling or a younger one, you’ll always love them, no matter what. Unless they’re complete jack asses, of course – yes, it happens – but, commonly, you’ll love them anyway.
Protectiveness is common in a relationship between siblings. Usually it’s always the older and more experienced people who act more protective towards their younger, more naïve siblings. The most general example of this is the relationship between an older brother and a younger sister, but obviously it doesn’t apply to that only.
For example, take my sister and I. She’s 12 and I’m 19 and, even though we didn’t get along well while she was younger (she had the lovely habit of pulling my hair and dragging me along our apartment’s hallway. I was really weak …), we get along great now – with the obvious exceptions of when mood swings hit her and she gets mad over everything. That’s okay, though. I was once like that as well.
But in any case, I am very protective of her. I just feel like punching a bunch of little, screaming kids whenever I hear something isn’t going well for her. Obviously I don’t do it, but still, it’s something worth thinking about.
You also very generally have the love you feel for your family members which, depending on the case, is usually not as intense as the one you feel for your parents or siblings, but obviously that differs from family to family. Let’s not get into that, though.
Then you have that love that feels like family but technically isn’t – friends. Friends are a tricky thing to have, at least to me. Up until college I always got really attached to my friends, but sooner or later, I’d feel like Ron Weasley – youngest son and all, never properly loved because everyone else was better than him. So yeah, basically I just gave my all to those people and then they’d have 50 best friends and they never included me. What ended up happening was that when I got to college and broke away from my old friends, I stopped getting so attached to people – any people – and I just … stopped labeling them. As in, ‘oh this is X, she’s my best friend!’. Yeah, no, it’s better if you don’t do that.
Still though, it’s true what they say. Friends are the family you get to choose, and if you find the right ones … they’ll last for a lifetime.
Finally, there’s the most popular love, the one everyone talks and writes about, the one everyone sings about. You have entire movies dedicated to it, and people do pretty stupid things because of it. That’s right – romantic love. The one between a man and a woman, a man and a man, a woman and a woman. The love that makes your stomach fill itself with butterflies and almost stop breathing when you finally meet them.
That … Jesus, that is the most complicated type of love, at least in my perspective. I haven’t been around for long, true, but I’ve had my relationships, and I can tell you … there is nothing simple about love.
one hundred chapters 