That’s enough. You jerk. Even I have a breaking point.
Let me break this down for you, Universe. I’m a tough girl, and I don’t let too many things get to me. Yes, I realize life isn’t perfect, but I’m incredibly ticked right now. Here, have a look.
Just over a year ago, a boy I was convinced I would marry told me, “You’re not the one.” That’s the most devastating thing a young lady can hear, especially delivered by her first true love.
But you’re lucky I’m so resilient, Universe, because after that, I declared to the world I was going to work on myself. So I sucked it up, bought some books like How to Heal a Broken Heart in 30 Days and it helped. It made everything so much better, and I came out just fine. At that point, I did not even want to seek out a meaningless rebound; I wanted to find a partner that complemented my amazing, whole self.
I went on a few blind dates, and I started talking to several guys I thought were cute. I began hanging out with one I hadn’t seen in years, and all the old feelings I had for him resurfaced. He was amazingly gentle and quirky, with a nerdy-intellect I rarely see. When we kissed, the connection was incredible. I had found something I did not even realize could exist. We both moved abroad to separate countries, kept in touch, and even visited each other. He had an incredible way with words, and I felt so peaceful with him.
Until late July, when he came back to the States and told me, “I’m not digging the romance.”
Uh, excuse me, what?
I wrote him letters by hand while he was away (granted, they’re all lost in the international mail system). We exchanged messages nearly every day. I picked him up from the airport when he came home, and we kissed in that happily-reunited way that one only sees in movies.
But it wasn’t enough because suddenly, I was “too masculine.” And then the months of emotional uncertainty began. On-and-off, alternating between absolutely terrible and blissfully happy. On an upswing, he told me I should visit more. When I arrived in Seattle in late November, I wasn’t prepared for the worst weekend ever. Instead of light-hearted fun, I was delivered with an emotionally-crushing weekend culminating in a tearful goodbye at the train station, telling him to contact me if he ever figured out his life.
He had emotional and personal issues he needed to get over without me. I get it. But how could a connection like that be so turbulent?
Oh, it was because he was also courting three other women.
The message I got merely days before my 25th birthday was from one of the other women. And the whole time I thought I was with someone amazing, he was promising another person he would return for her in the summer.
So, thanks for that. Thanks for providing me with a relationship in which I felt completely secure and peaceful, and then tearing the rug out from under me, leaving me to stare at the ceiling where the word “gullible” was actually painted on the ceiling.
To which I declared, “I give up. Really, this time I’m done.” I didn’t need the books this time– it is truly incredible how quickly I can get over someone who has duped me so terribly.
But then, Universe, do you know what you did?
You made me catch someone’s careless gaze. Someone classically tall, dark, and handsome. Unlike the others, he carried himself confidently. And you, Universe, nudged me forward– told me to take a chance, just one more time. Oh, he was funny, and possessed an incredible charm.
But you saved one surprise for last, Universe: the Cascadia Subduction Zone of dating– locked up feelings suddenly giving way, shaking a foundation that I had hoped was safe.
So dear Universe, do you see what you’re doing? Do you see how each time I try and recover in a meaningful way, you throw a wrench in the plan?
I’m done. I’m too amazing to have this keep happening. I’m fine with bringing new friends into my life, do not get me wrong. And I’m not against mending the aforementioned relationships into friendships– because I forgive, and I understand we’re all human, and we’re allowed to work on ourselves without interference.
But you, Universe, don’t seem to quite understand that. Please, give me a break. I don’t want to be the person that makes other people realize they have to fix themselves. If that’s what you have in mind for me, I want no part in it.
I wash my hands of this.
PS – Having both my e-mail and the FAFSA site malfunction tonight isn’t helping my mood. Seriously. Stop it.