I was on ChatRoulette one night, a website created to meet random people from all over the world and sometimes you'll find perverts showing off their private parts on the webcam but sometimes, you actually get to meet decent people, really decent people. And that was what happened to me.
I was on the website, had the cursor on the next button so I could just click instead of scrolling to find a next button if I were to come across with say a 40 year old pedo wanking in front of the webcam. To be honest, there were pretty a lot of normal guys I met on the website but most of them had trouble communicating in English and I got pretty bored so I pressed next, next, next... until I came across this boy, who looked decent enough but that wasn't what made me stay to talk to him, it was the set of drums at the back of him that got me intrigued.
So there we were, talking on ChatRoulette with the shitty connection and after what seemed like half an hour, we exchanged our Skype ids and continued our conversation on Skype. We talked just about everything. Our music taste, our perceptions of life, our jokes- we immediately clicked. We talked for about 5 hours before I headed to bed. Since that day onwards, we Skyped every single day for hours. I am 6 hours ahead so sleep had to be sacrificed and to be honest, it was worth it.
I showed him how my college looked like, brought him a tour around my campus. I showed him my house, my friends. We shop together online and show the things we bought. It was like he was here already but the most frustrating part is that, he isn't. How he could just stay there, spinning in his chair, juggling things to kill time while we were on Skype because I had to study for my finals. How I stole glances at him while I did my notes.
But then again, have you ever considered the slight possibility that it could be, fate? I mean, seeing him on ChatRoulette and if I pressed next, I probably would have missed the chance of feeling this way. If the connection was shitty and we didn't manage to exchange any information about one another, if I accidentally closed the website. Anything, I mean, what are the odds?
How is it possible that a boy who lives 6000... 6258.05 miles away to be exact, is able to give me the butterflies?
When you pick me up my favorite songs are always playing. You tell me not to speak, wanting to explain what is going on. You ask for me, but I just can't.
I've always cared for you. Always loved seeing you, hearing from you, fighting with you. At the same time, however, I've hated you. Despised you more than any person I know. You made me hurt in a way that I've never experienced, you embarrassed me, you left me. To this day I cry when I think about that night on the beach when you yelled at the ocean and left our relationship to the waves. I laid in bed during that summer, weeping for reasons I don't even know. Crying for what happened. I had never felt that before.
Getting your letter this summer nearly ripped me to shreds. It was an apology but I cried as if the break up had happened again. My letter back was full of pent up resentment, and I think back now that it may have been too much to be said in a letter. When you read it you wrecked your car. I made you as mad at you had made me. That was the point.
Eventually summer fades and we all come back to school. Seeing you the other day made me livid again. You didn't deserve to even be in the same place as me. You didn't deserve my glances, you knew that. We fought when around each other, people complained about the tension we left in the air. We didn't care. We've never cared.
This time last year we tried this the first time. You came to me, convinced me of the importance of our relationship and I unwillingly agreed. Soon after, everything fell apart. As you come back to me I tell you I can't let you in. I want to. I want to be the one to hold your hand, I want to walk under your arm and feel small, but I can't.
You told me of what you've done this year to keep me close as we walked around the gardens at night. That poem was beautiful, the flowers that I thought were from a friend, the night you came to see my play--all unnoticed. You have always been there and I had no idea. Hearing you say that you want me and only me feels like a dream. I had no idea that I had the ability to care anymore, but I still can't let go. There is something holding me back. Whether or not this will happen again, I can't know. Jumping in head first brought me more pain that I ever thought imaginable. I'm here to say that I am willing to eventually walk up to the shore and ease into that sea where we left us.
Right now, however, I'm not even close to the water.
When I met you, I was getting over someone. Someone who was great at first and whom I had given my heart to and he had stomped all over it. I didn't know how or why it ended so abruptly. I was hurt and was working on getting over him; I was working on getting past the need to find answers when someone just pushes you aside as if you were disposable. But when I saw you, I wanted you. I didn't wanted you to be my boyfriend, I knew I couldn't offer you anything, I was empty and you were ending your relationship, I knew better than to get involved with someone I couldn't give or receive anything and for the first time, I had no expectations.
It didn't start with a first date. We worked in the same place, I had seen you before, I found you attractive (very much so) I wanted to leave my feelings aside and just have a fling because you see, I always get involved. I added you to my messenger thinking here goes nothing and we started talking, we flirted and it progressed from there. We saw each other at the office, we went out for drinks with co workers but, nothing happened until one Sunday afternoon you offered me a ride home and you leaned over on a red light and kissed me. We went to your house with an excuse I can't even remember at this moment and we slept together. On the way to my house you said you were waiting to see if she would come back. I just thought it was a onetime thing.
But it wasn't, we saw each other every time we could, we didn't talk about feelings or expected anything from each other, it was raw desire and unknown territory for me. We started spending more time together and talking and opening up and you I started to feel attached to you and wanting more out of it and in that moment, I knew I had to get out. You said to me, I can't offer you anything, you know this, if you can't handle it let me know...
But time went by and I never said what I had rehearsed in my head over and over again, I never uttered the words, let's end this before it's too late and someone gets hurt... I have never been happier to have kept quiet.
It's been almost a year now and we've had a great relationship. I have learned so much from you, I have learned so much about myself as well. We have had our ups and downs, we moved in together a bit too soon and we didn't know each other that well. But we have made it work and we have learned so much from every fight we've had and we stick together, support each other and wait the storm off together. I have never had a real, mature relationship before and you have shown me that, you have shown me real love. I love you for who you are. You have days when you are cranky, forget to take out the garbage, spend too much time in front of the mirror, you speak too loud when you're on the phone, and when you're mad and you say things without thinking them through... yeah, I still love you because you have opened your heart even though is as flawed as mine. You show interest in things that are important to me, you have learned to communicate and open it, you are sweet and caring and try to be romantic because you know how important those things are for me. You talk about plans for the future and you include me and the house we share has become our home. I want us to grow old together and deal with it all together because we make a hell of a team.
first we were strangers. then you weren't so unknown and weren't so strange, and we drifted towards friends. and keeping the friend title you graduated to become my boyfriend. soon after, and with increasingly accumulated titles, you became my lover. and it was months of bliss as all three titles merged into you. and you with me became some completely separate entity that moved as one force in the universe, rambunctiously causing heads to turn and eyes to roll but i was there and you were there and it was us. together.
then too quickly after you became my ex-lover. and my ex-boyfriend. and my ex-friend. and too quickly was i surrounded by exs, too many to count and too many for it to mark any spot. and too quickly you became the person i pushed into the past tense when talking about, though so much of you is still with me presently, surrounding me and hugging me.
and then you send me a message - and i can eagerly re-unfold all the layers we surpassed together, to your inner demons and mine. i can eagerly dive back into the waters of your trust and my love and our innocence. i can eagerly respond with a desperate yes, and a promise to call him in the morning.
because truth is i’ve been waiting for him to say he needs me. i’ve been waiting for him to say he misses me. and i’ve been waiting for him to say he loves me. because there are too many newborn butterflies alight in my stomach to swallow such an opportunity with a passive no. so here i wait and here i teeter, on the brink of ex's, like they're bowling pins lined up ready to fall. and i'm hoping in one swift movement i can knock down every ex we were drowning in.
I just realised, how small I feel when you aren't with me. How scared I am of everything, when I can't be with you, or when you turn away. How everything in my life means nothing at all anymore, when I can't share it with you. How alone I feel when you aren't here to understand my ways, and to love them. How incomplete I am without you.. Everything is half. Or nothing. It's like a big gap has been punched through my heart. A part is missing. You took it with you, the biggest part of my heart, and therefore because it's with you, I can not share it with anyone else anymore. It will always be with you. Even now you're gone, no one interests me. There isn't a guy who catches my eye, or interest. Nothing compares to you. Once you've had a taste of perfection. And you aren't even actually perfect. You have imperfections. But dear god, how I love all of them.
You are perfect to me. For me. With me. For I am not perfect either. I am still trying to not mess up. And to be as good as I can for you. Because even though when I was with you, it felt like I could never be with anyone else like I am with you, it still felt like I couldn't deserve you. In a good way. You are way up there for me. And I'm always trying to reach. To touch it. I don't just love you. I'm with you. Everything in me is you. Every memory I have. I don't know how to love without you. I don't know if I want to. Everything is gone. I wish I could say that I'm better off, but it feels like I won't ever meet anyone like you ever again. It feels like I won't ever love again like I did with you. Passionately. I didn't know I could feel this empty. But in a way it's addictive, because it makes me feel that what we had is... was real. That it wasn't just something. The memories are a drug to me and kill me.
How do you live/love when all your life/love has been taken from you?
I’m a mess. A total mess because I’m in love with this man.
I’m at his place now, sitting on his sofa listening to Journey, his favorite band. He just drank his morning coffee and left for work. I was still in bed, but got up as soon as he locked the front door, because I couldn’t sleep.
I can never sleep nowadays. I can’t sleep or think or breathe or eat and it’s all because of him. He has got into my brain and my heart and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s been like this for a few months now and I’m trying to get used to it because I know it won’t stop until he’s mine. Or until he says he doesn’t want me and I’ll have to make a desperate try moving forward.
He’s that kind of man who lives on his own in a nice apartment downtown. He talks a lot, sings like some kind of god and got nothing in his refrigerator but soda, jam and two eggs in a box. His hair is curly and his eyes have got some indefinite gray-green color which I’m getting totally lost in every time he looks at me. Also, his smell is like a drug and, obviously, I’m totally obsessed with him.
The thing is he’s not interested in being in a relationship right now. He jokes and says it isn’t season for that at the moment. He hasn’t gotten over his ex, even though it’s been over a year since they broke up. And some days he’s got other girls coming over, sleeping over, just for fun I guess.
This is making me jealous. I’ve never before in my eighteen year old life been jealous. But then, I’ve never felt like this for anyone before neither. This man is different, and he is making me crazy. He is making me a mess, a total mess, and I will wait for him. Even if it’ll break me.
I never knew I could love someone that much. It wasn’t attraction at first sight, it didn’t develop gradually, it seemed to be in me all along and only know I’ve come to understand the signs. For years you have been sailing near me and all this time no butterflies and no heart beats exploding. Just a warm content feeling when I see you and a notion of being exactly where I’m supposed to be when you smile. The sea can be rough and heavy but as long as I see your sails I know I’m safe.
Over the years I’ve noticed all your flaws: you’re annoyingly stubborn to the point of obstinate, you can be awfully self-righteous and sometimes you’re just plain corny. But you’re also the kindest man on earth, so affectionate and when you laugh you sound like a little boy caught playing a prank. When you’re away, no matter for how long, I know I’m only half of what I can be when I’m with you. I can feel your part missing and the void does not stop throbbing until you’re back.
We have a mutual silent agreement, stirring our courses slowly to the point where we’re finally going to meet. Until then we live our lives a few feet away from each other, testing new waters and sometimes we even loose each other. But the wind always blows our boats back in sight until one day we find common ground and stop drifting.
I love that you’re my best friend and I can’t wait for the time when sailing is over. In the end it’s just going to be you and me.
I think the reason I can’t handle this is because I have so many regrets. If I could go back and do things over, I would change everything. From the start, I would tell you how much you meant to me. Fuck ‘clingyness’. I would be honest. I’d tell you about how much I liked your hair and your funny, awkward little laugh and your silver-capped teeth and your wrinkly hands and the way you’d look at me so seriously, through your lashes, and make my stomach flip flop.
What else would I redo? I’d tell you why I was sad. Why I was hurting. Why I was scared. I’d tell you about my dad. I’d tell you about how sometimes I just wanted to be alone and listen to music. I’d tell you about how terrified I was of conformity, of drinking, of being weak and vulnerable.
Then, when I was done telling you all that, I’d kiss you and you’d kiss me back. And I’d ask you to take care of me. “Take care of me, okay?” I’d say, and you’d say yes and kiss me again and I’d feel safe.
If I could do it over, I’d realized how much you appreciated me. How you truly cared about me, not just FOR me, but ABOUT me. You cared what I had to say. You cared if I was sad or a little lost. You cared about all my weird little quirks that other guys might pretend not to notice.
I think I scared you a lot. By nature, I’m unpredictable. I change everyday. You wanted to be secure, you wanted me to tell you all those things that I never did, because deep down you knew it wasn’t the same for me. Sometimes I’d be all over you, kissing your face, telling you stories, laughing at your jokes. But in a heartbeat I’d be different. I’d be introverted, reserved. I’d look at you for long moments like I was lost. Like I didn’t know how I got there. The truth is, I didn’t know.
You were a hundred percent certain I was exactly what you wanted. I wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever known. I was beautiful in a way that only chaos can be beautiful. I wished every day that I could be as certain as you were.
All those things I regret? All those things I wish I’d said? At the time, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say everything.
But I was scared, so scared. I was scared that you might think I was clingy if I told you that you made me happy. I was scared that you might think I wanted attention if I talked about my dad. I was scared to look vulnerable and immature and naïve if I told you my morals.
I wish that I hadn’t been so afraid. I wish I’d trusted you.
I didn’t know then just how much you cared about me. You never would have hurt me; you aren’t capable of that. I know that now. I know that you treated me so tenderly that I didn’t deserve you.
I’m so sorry for everything.
I’m glad we had each other. I’m glad you learned to love someone. I’m glad we were happy, even if only for a few weeks. I’m glad that you trusted me and respected me.
I can’t settle for anything less now. And that’s scary, and sad, but it’s okay because one day I know that someone else will come along who will care just as much as you did. Maybe he won’t come around for years, but he’ll be here. And with him, I’ll be certain. I’ll be as sure as you were with me. He’ll change my life like I changed yours, he’ll make me see everything differently and I won’t be afraid to make mistakes with him. And then he’ll break my heart like I broke yours, and you can laugh at me if you want, I deserve it.
Thank you. I’d say that I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry. I won’t apologize for a single second we spent together. All those regrets I have, all those mistakes I made, they won’t happen the next time around.
Have you ever met someone who can light up your whole day? Someone who suddenly appears out of nowhere but made you smile every time you see each other? Maybe you met that person in your town, at work, at the store or through a friend. But you find out that they’re not from here. They live far away, and in a few days they are going back home. The last day before leaving, you decide to meet up for a little while. But you missed one other, so you have to go back home with an empty heart and a question constantly ringing in your head. Will you ever meet again? You have not a name, a phone number or Facebook. What are the odds that you will ever meet again? Very very minimal.
So you can imagine my surprise when he appeared around the corner, just like he used to. With smiling lips and sparkling eyes. He said he couldn’t leave without knowing my name. That he had been driving for hours to find me. We said that we would see each other tomorrow again. He seemed happy about that, and I can’t wait. He is so beautiful. My ex-stranger.
it just happened one night he just walked into my life the details are fuzzy a combination of alcohol and tiredness but he was there, on the street or rather on his lawn and it was like he was calling my name but i didn't know it, not yet anyway
everything about him draws me in, his pale green eyes that light up when he smiles his voice, his arms, his every move. and that smile that knocks out my fears everything about him gives me comfort and falling into his web was out of my control it was inevitable
attraction is a funny thing that way no matter how wrong it might be it clouds your mind, it takes over and the next thing you know you're caught but the worst part is you don't even care you can pretend to struggle, pretend to be weak but the truth is you want to be there limbs tied down, heart pounding refusing to move wanting nothing more than to be trapped there to be unable to break the spell and you could care less
that's the way it is with him i get stuck in his essence and not a single part of me wants to pull away i'm perfectly content with being devoured besides, attempting to resist is pointless, why try and avoid something that great. something that makes it hard to speak something that makes you unable to think and blush whenever it crosses your mind
so, regardless of how wrong it might be i think i'm just going to soak it in i'm going to lay with my head on his chest while he runs his fingers through my hair and i'm going to listen to the sound of his heart. because i can't imagine life without that sound anymore. its embedded in my brain, and i refuse to let it go. and i'm okay with that. its not something i'm going to regret and its not something i'm willing to give up.
It's been a few days. Strange, as I have had a lot on my mind. Somewhere between my choices this last week, and the decisions I've yet to make, I lost the ability to blog. I suppose I'm a little overwhelmed by everything going on inside my mind, and the aching in my heart. Everyone wants to know. Some are afraid to ask so they beat around the bush, while others push for information. And then some, cone to their own conclusions based on what he said, she said or what they "saw".
So often we allow someone else take responsibility for our faults. Then there's the other half of that equation in which we unjustly hold ourselves accountable for matters in which we bear no control. I'm guilty of both in the 1st degree.
He blames himself. And part of me wants to let him. Before today, I hadn't really understood fully why things are the way they are and why it can't be different. I've been thinking. Sorting out all of these damn ideas and thoughts in my head. For awhile I felt it coming. I was quick to blame him for the distance that had suddenly started to grow between us. I was losing patience and he wasn't taking me, or the situation seriously. I kept thinking that all it would take to settle my ugly butterflies and irritability was just one night. One dinner. One movie. One kiss. One glance. I never got one night. I had been growing irritable and frustrated with his nonchalant attitude to my subtle hints and quiet pleas. I was happy to be his because despite this, he treated me better than I felt I deserved but impatience was weighing in. I would feel angry, hurt, alone and grumpy when I thought about how I couldn't be in his arms, at his own will. I blamed him for my growing lack of tolerance at the situation. I knew it was wrong. And I'd feel ashamed of myself for the bitterness I had. I didn't know how I could one minute have so much patience and be telling myself he was worth waiting a million years for, and the next be so angry for not having him now. So I blamed him. I blamed the way he would make me promises I'd cornered him into. I blamed the fact that he relapsed. I blamed him for not having anywhere to go when I needed to get away. Now I realize that I lost patience because I had been on a timeline. I had at the beginning of our relationship, done my research and realized these things only take a year. And sometimes less. I counted down the days and I didn't push or pry. Not until, when it was close to being a year and he shared with me the truth I hadn't planned on. I quickly became aware that we were on the time of an hourglass. Not a timer. And the hourglass, while so close to being empty, had just been flipped. What I've come to understand is that really, I created my own impatience. I set myself up for heartbreak in the beginning when I stopped hearing what he was trying to tell me and selfishly I only heard what I wanted to. Somewhere along the lines of late night promises, I love you mostests and plans of tomorrows I conceived some unrealistic fantasies.
And then there is the other half of my internal conflict. While I chose to blame him for my own self inflicted wounds, I couldn't help but hold myself accountable for his confessed regress. Even now, while I know it isn't right, I still play the what if game. I asked myself a lot of questions. Most of them pertaining to what I could have done and what I didn't do. Why didn't I tell him how proud of him I was more often? What if I had been more involved in his recovery? Should I have asked more questions? Why am I not enough to make him better? Maybe I was too laid back about things. Maybe if he had been with me he wouldn't have been out giving in to temptation. Maybe I caused too much stress. Was I too pushy? What if I hadn't been so grumpy? How could I be better?
All of these questions and thoughts flew amongst others through my mind. I don't know whether it's all females, or if I stand alone, but i feel the need to be a rescuer. I played the role of savior to my ex, or at least I tried. And I told myself, at the beginning of this relationship, that I knew where he was and I knew I couldn't do that. Knowing something is wrong doesn't necessarily mean were not going to do it though. Maybe Hollywood is to blame for putting the idea of love being "enough to conquer all" in our head. Maybe Disney. Maybe it's Nicholas Sparks or lifetime. Maybe it's a trait I inherited from my dad, a savior in his own past failed romances. Maybe if it weren't for them, I'd never have given myself the expectation of my love being enough to "save" or "fix" him.
Its apparent that no reason is not reason enough for anyone these days. So for everyone asking what happened, and who or what was to blame, I'll leave you with this:
Maybe the blame is too much for one person to carry. Perhaps there's multiple sources. Maybe it's just me and him alone. Maybe it's a little of everything I've said.