I’m going to try to summarize my feelings on liking people real quick, which is essentially going to be as effective of a summary as saying Moby Dick is about a few guys looking for a whale. I acknowledge that a lot of details and intricacies will be missed.
So… main points?
- I’ve never been in love before. I’ve had crushes. I’ve lusted after guys. I’ve never been in love though.
- I hate liking anyone because I feel at my core that liking someone is a weakness. I feel like they hold power over me and I don’t like it. I mean, liking people is fun and so is flirting, but at the end of the day I feel icky and almost ill that I was so changed simply because of how a person fucks with my emotions.
- I’m a little scared to trust anyone with all of my secrets. I know all about me and I don’t like me, so I don’t know why anyone else would. I also loathe entirely the idea of sharing so much of myself and then breaking up with them. I don’t think my anxiety can handle knowing someone is out there in the world who knows me intimately yet probably doesn’t like me anymore. I’m stressed just thinking about that.
I say all that, to shed better light on my struggles. I went to my alma mater on Sunday to see my brother graduate. I was really excited for him. He was really worried about going back to school to finish his degree, but he persevered and that’s impressive.
I expected that I’d see a few people I knew – professors mostly, maybe some of the people graduating would be familiar. And, of course, there’s a boy. I’m going to call him Mr. E. I imagine every so often running into him. Oddly enough, I didn’t imagine running into him on Sunday, which is probably why I did. Shit hits the fan when you aren’t watching it.
Senior year of college (five whole years ago, yikes), I liked Mr. E. A LOT. I was in deep like with him. I refuse to say love because I don’t think you can love someone you aren’t ever in a relationship with. I may have at most loved the idea of him, but really, honestly, I just liked him a lot. I wanted to be in a relationship with him, which was a first for me.
I’ve never dated, which freaks people out. It’s like, I don’t, I forgot to do it? It’s like getting to the end of the semester and thinking, “Oh, shit, I never turned in that assignment! Oh well, I’m getting an A in the class anyway.” Somehow, it never crossed my mind to actively pursue a real relationship. I’ve always been wrapped up in fictional characters and imagining wild scenarios in my head, using guys I knew but didn’t really know. The sweet spot is having a crush on someone you know only a little about because then you can fill in desirable traits in the blanks. I like it more than being in a relationship and having to acknowledge that the person in front of me is not a piece of clay I can mold into what I want rather than they are who they are and I either l have to love them for who they are because people don’t actually change.
I felt like I could be myself around him though. I was weird and messed up and falling apart most of the time, but he never treated me like I was weird or needed to pull myself together. He didn’t treat me like my weirdness was okay because I had a lot of redeemable qualities. He didn’t act like there was nothing wrong with me so that I felt a little crazy for thinking I was crazy. I don’t if I can even really describe it accurately. I was who I was and he wanted to be friends with me as I was. I never felt bad for my craziness. It’s like he embraced my whole personality and was on board with who I was as a person. Talk about addicting for someone who secretly wants everyone to love and validate me at all times.
But he’s a terrible type of person, which I knew for a solid portion of my year spent with him. He saw people and decided he wanted to be their friend, like he was collecting oddities. He had all these interesting people to do things with or talk to, but he never shared himself. He reserved that for his actual friends, a surprisingly small group of people. Thinking back, I was probably just the crown jewel of his Freak Show for that year.
The problem with this, and why emotions suck and I wish a little bit that I was just a robot, is that rationally I know he’s a bastard. I can think about the scope of him and his behaviors. He’s not good people. I shouldn’t want anything to do with him because he’s toxic in my life.
But, I shit you not, I saw his face and my heart fluttered. My emotions are bigger bastards because part of me still really likes him. I crave, now probably more than ever, a person to be 100% real with. I feel like I’m only partially me to everyone in my life. Maybe the part is as big as 98% of me, but I never hit that 100%. I would like to be 100% with someone. It’s a terrifying thought. I think about what that all means and think, “Oh God, no, that’s terrible. That’s a terrible idea.”
On the other hand, it would be nice to be that comfortable with another human being. It would be a relief to trust someone that much.
I don’t know if any of that makes sense, which is why in person I’m all, “I don’t know why I still like him. Ugh,” to my friends. People are stupid, right? Or maybe I’m just stupid?
I’m not a fan of emotions today.