Nic Narrates

I’ve found myself doing a lot of thinking lately about relationships and commitment and happiness. In particular, I’ve been wondering if it’s possible for me to have all three at once. And the more I think about it, the more I begin to wonder if my questioning whether happiness and commitment can go hand-in-hand is really a product of someone else’s failure, or if it’s a product of my own.

After all these years of pointing my finger at guys who were emotionally unavailable, who strung me along, who meant well but couldn’t back up their words with actions, and those who quite simply weren’t that into me; what if in the end it’s me? What if I picked those guys to mask my own insecurities? What if I’m the commitment phobe?

I realize this all sounds particularly troubling considering I’ve now been in a committed relationship for over a year. Maybe I’m not supposed to be thinking about these sorts of things- not supposed to wonder, let alone admit them publicly. Maybe they’re things you only whisper in your journal, to your therapist, or relegate to your subconscious in hopes they’ll work themselves out in your dreams. The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about this; questioning my own abilities.

What is wrong with me that I can’t just be like everyone else? Why can’t I just give in? Why does the whole relationship-marriage-house-baby thing have to be such a fucking production for me? I’m in a relationship and I scoff at people who think I’m headed for any of those things. I deem them well-meaning but obtuse because I know I’m no closer to any of those things than when I was single. And there’s the rub.

All of those “life moments” might be possible for other people, but I continue to have this gut feeling that they’re not in my future. I don’t see the white dress or the ring or the baby or the yard with the flower garden. I don’t see any of that and I question whether it’s because I’ll never have them or whether they’re just going to look different from “the norm.”

Either way, I feel like one of those people who apparently had premonitions they’d die young- and then they did. Only for me, I have this growing sense that I’ll never have a happy lasting relationship. That underneath even a seemingly contented surface, my own disappointments or doubts will continue to smolder until enough time has passed to set them aflame.

I look at my friends and their experiences and become overwhelmed  when I imagine myself in their place. I get this terrible anxious feeling in my stomach and my fingers get all tingly until I don’t even feel the keys as I type. I get “sympathy anxiety,” we joke, but really it’s not all that funny. The things they’re experiencing aren’t even happening to me and I’m panicking.

When I wonder “what if,” I instantly jump to the next 40 to 50 YEARS and I freeze. Nothing lasts that long anymore. Nothing. Not a job, not a house, not a relationship. Hell, I don’t know that I can even stand myself for that long let alone someone else. At a certain point, I think you roll over in the morning and realize you hate that person. You’ve just opened your eyes and already you’re wondering, “What creative ways will you find to piss me off today?”

No matter what relationship I’m in, I see that moment as inevitable. He could be the most caring, respectful, loving person and I will still think that way because that’s how jaded and mean my heart can be. That’s the real me that every man I’ve dated has met at some point or another.

I’m not afraid of those moments of realization. I’m not afraid of being alone- in the end, I honestly think I will be. Instead, I’m afraid of going along with the ruse, acting happy and committed because it’s what you do when you find someone good and loving and just everything a person should be. I’m afraid that even that won’t be enough to keep my jaded heart quiet.

Filed under: break ups suck more, cohabitation, crash and burn, crossroads, domesticity is overrated, engaging boyfriends, jaded, Just Another Day in Crazy, just say 'when', my boyfriend is a saint, poor choices, quiet desperation, singletons, wakefulness, wedding hell, work in progress by Nic