Let Us Proceed (In Love)

So Adam and I broke up.

Don't everyone start crying, please. There's light at the end of the tunnel and all that crap.

Okay, so partly, I think we broke up for ethereal reasons. Feelings and lack of feelings and strange feelings and scary feelings and what do the feelings mean and what should they be and shouldn't they be and what is this and what do you want and all that. And he can’t imagine never sleeping with another person again. Which I imagine is scary for a 26 year old guy. I've f'ed a lot of dudes in my life (see: this blog) so that's not so scary for me. I did give him "permission" to sleep with other girls. But he hasn’t, at least not without me, because he didn’t want to, but he did want to, but he didn't, etc. etc. I'd imagine it's hard to do something that might hurt someone, potentially. I mean, let's face, he already hurt me when he, in essence, dumped me. So I'd rather give him the freedom. To explore. To figure out what he really wants. Even though that could leave me in the dust. Right? That's the fear. But I mean. Who wants to live in fear? F fear, dude.

Embracing freedom is hard.

(We should have read that Tristan Taormino Open Relationship book. But it kept getting sent back to Amazon. Wouldn't fit in my mailbox. That's probably the tragic point in all this. Kidding. Sort of.)

Of course, through this break up, I’ve figured out more about what I want, who I am. I’ve discovered that I’m a whole person without Adam. That he’s a beautiful addition. He doesn’t “complete me.” He supplements me. Is that the word? Supplement? I have friends, hobbies, goals that I can enjoy without him. And that was an important rediscovery. Important, but painful of course. Because I’d rather be enjoying these things with him by my side, at least some of the time. Because he’s one of my best friends and I really like holding his hand and having sex with him and saying I love you and watching him do stupid naked dances.

(Now leaving Gulpville.)

Last night, we hung out. We had drinks and dinner. The conversation was some of the best we’ve ever had. I’m not particularly interested in trying to “win him back", like in the traditional sense, because I don't think I did anything to lose him. We're kinda starting over, from a friend place for now. Figuring shit out. Which is fine by me, because I have fun figuring things out with him. We are very compatible. We have so much fun together. And I feel patient. And strong.

Of course, it is hard to embrace our strength. Because that means we are responsible for our own recovery and our own happiness. And who wants to be responsible for that? We want other people to heal us, make us happy. Because if they do, that means they care. But really. They can't always make us happy. Even if they want to.

But I can make me happy. I can at the very least try.

Adam and me--our relationship is complex. Like everyone’s. It’s an experiment and a journey. It's companionship. I never really asked for more than what I thought Adam could give. Maybe sometimes this wasn't always the best idea. Maybe a boy needs a fire lit under his ass in a relationship, needs a challenge, needs some tough love, needs constraints. But honestly. I was always happy with what he could provide. As long as he’s happy with what he can offer, I’m happy. He might wanna hold more doors for me and say thank you for making me dinner and dance with me at 3 am, though, a little more. Ha.

Maybe we'll figure out what's lacking. Or maybe it’s nothing. Maybe we can be content with what we have. It's all hypotheticals.

If Adam and I ever start a band, we'll call ourselves The Hypotheticals.

Adam said our relationship is always best when we're freestyling, making up our own rules. It's true. But that takes a certain amount of creativity, reinvention, patience, and collaboration. I wanna say: let's collaborate.

So. So so so. So for now.

For now, we are just proceeding in a spirit of caring and love and nurturing. Because that’s the only way we know how. We took three weeks off from one another. We didn't speak at all. It wasn't a fake break, it was the real deal. I thought of him every day. It’s been terribly hard. But rewarding as well. Figuring out what I want. Who I am. Without Adam. With or without him, I really will be okay.

And so will he.

He is the boy I decided to love. It was a decision. It was a choice. I can pretend that it wasn't--that it's all chemistry, it's all insane love spasms and electrical impulses, but ehhh. I think I knew what I was getting into. And I dove in. Sometimes, my feelings feel chaotic and insane. But I react to what I’m feeling. That’s my choice. And my choice was to love him. And to love myself. Above all. To love myself.

Love. A wise woman once said. Is a battlefield. That shit's for real.