I had an on-and-off-again-but-mostly-on relationship with the boy I fell in love with in college. He was an emotionally unavailable asshole, which became recognized as my type for awhile. Luckily that has changed.
He acted like he thought he was the shit but in reality he was incredibly anxious and self-conscious. He played guitar and had pretty eyes. I loved him. Every now and then he’d have bursts of missing me and feeling like I was the only girl who would ever understand him so he’d travel to come see me and we’d be happy for maybe five days and then he’d act distant and asshole-ish and it would end for awhile. We tried all variations of relationships. It never worked out. I always gave him another chance. I, maybe unfortunately, am pretty generous with chances. I like to believe the best in other people and the worst in myself. It’s a perfect storm of emotional chaos.
I loved him in an overwhelmingly toxic-to-myself way that felt like I had been biologically created to love him, like some of my atoms were genetically crafted for the purpose of loving him. I loved him enough that I decided to lose my virginity to him. (Losing one’s virginity is such an odd phrase. It’s not like I misplaced it. I know where it went.) I guess to the rationale of my 19-year-old mind it didn’t matter the circumstances under which we had sex, just that I had finally had sex with the person I had loved the most up to that point. And I continue to be okay with that even though the actual circumstances involved drinking a lot of Mike’s Hard Lemonade to the extent that I don’t really remember the actual act. Just that it didn’t hurt as much as I had anticipated.
The last summer I spoke with him he decided he wanted to write me a hand-written letter that explained why he was never 100% about us. It took about a week for me to receive it. All I remember from it was that it was six or seven pages long, written on the back of printed out pages of Wells Fargo FAQs, and that it contained some variation of the words, “I’ve just never been with anyone who wasn’t conventionally thin.” I took an hour to process that I was awake and this was really happening and then I called him. He was in the car with his family (who adored me and also wondered why he couldn’t get his shit together enough to commit to me) so I demanded to be put on speaker phone so I could explain to them what he so eloquently explained to me. He hung up on me. Then texted me. I sent him a long text basically saying that I was thankful he cleared things up for me because it made me realize that I never loved him, because I clearly didn’t know who he was at all, so how could I have loved someone I didn’t know? I told him I felt sorry for him that he was so emotionally limited and would never be able to fully comprehend what actual love is and he replied, “Ok.” So I replied, “Ok.” And that was the last thing I ever said to him.
He tried texting me a couple times since then, apologizing, saying how much he screwed up, but I deleted them. Sometimes it takes someone cheating on you to realize they are not the person for you. Sometimes it takes years and years of physical or emotional abuse. And sometimes it just takes the words “conventionally thin.”