Why am I so desperate for companionship?

This is a question I have been asking myself increasingly over the past few months.

I have always been very cognisant of the fact that as humans it is only natural to seek companionship and partner up. It is something that happens frequently.

There has been numerous scientific research and articles addressing the fact that as humans it is natural for us to seek out companions – be it for reproductive purpose or just the need for affection.

It is just what makes us human.

Seeing as I cannot use the reproduction argument in my case, it then leaves the need for affection option, which then forces me to ask, why am I so desperate for affection?

Is it because it is just “basic human needs” or does it come from the issue that I cannot handle being alone?

I would like to think that I have had enough time to discover if my constant desire for companionship is instead pointing to something deeper, and in all honesty, I cannot deny that it might.

A part of me wonders if it maybe has to do with my daddy issues – i.e. absent father who made me feel unappreciated and like a burden, which then lead to my Mom being forced to step in... Basically the same old sob story. But the thought is there - maybe my search for love from a partner is because I lacked the feeling of love from him.

This theory has also been used in the “are you gay because you lacked a strong male figure in your life” argument – which in my case is not true because my grandfather was there for me, and stepdad, and I was already sure the signs of my gayness were there by the time I was in Grade 3.

Funnily enough, on my birthday last year, some stranger actually sent me a message which I will post:

I was upset after reading this because, who gave this stranger the right to force their psychoanalysis on me especially when I didn’t ask for it. Like seriously? Thanks for the input in my life but no one asked you.

It did have me thinking - to which I realised that I am honestly past the point of seeking approval from someone in my life who was only there when his conscience reminded him of his other son.

(Listen, I have blame in that relationship too because I have brother who I have zero relationship with because of all of this, and that is an unfortunate consequence of our actions.)

So maybe that need for companionship comes from this, but there is an alternate theory that I feel is more appropriate.

Maybe I am just one of those people who are driven by their desire to make someone else happy?

Maybe it is not even about me exactly, but more about a desire to fulfill the needs of another person - treating them with compassion, kindness and love.

There is a vast difference between platonic love versus romantic love, and maybe I want to experience that with a person.

Or maybe it could be because I don’t want to wind up a miserable old man with no one to love him?

Or I am looking for a warm roll to stick my sausage in? (I doubt it is purely this reason).

But regardless, there are all things to think about.

Though, it should be said that I have only had two sexual partners over the span of four years which is equal to the amount of relationships I have had. Also, I am not seeking for love by bed hopping to someone else so there is no promiscuous behaviour happening.

[Not that promiscuity is related to this, some people just like having a lot of sex, and power to them for that. No judgement/slut or man-whore shaming here, just a stating that I don’t do the sleeping around because it is just not me.

Interesting enough, I find that I am getting criticised for not being able to sleep around. People have been telling me to ease up, and not be so intense. Sometimes all you want is just to screw someone for a night and that I should be into doing that; especially because as a gay man, I should be all about the excessive sex, BUT I am just not into that.]

I recently told someone that I would love a relationship but I am not going to force it.

As much as being alone and single is driving me crazy at the moment, it is still a remark that I believe to be true. I will not repeat the mistake of rushing into a relationship for the sake of having one because I am only shooting myself in the foot and sabotaging myself.

For now, I am just going to let my life figure itself out, because it is not like I have 500 things going on (sarcasm), so the chips will have to fall where they may.

 “Que Sera, Sera. Whatever will be, will be, the future of live is free, que sera sera”

Theo. Over and Out.

PS – This post doesn’t really contribute towards any great epiphany but I like reflecting on myself and my behaviours because if I cannot examine my own issues/faults/flaws/tendencies then how am I to grow? I won’t deny that it does leave me vulnerable and open to people who might exploit it, but I think I have enough self-preservation to know how to deal with those people.

PPS – I have come to learn a lot about rape culture and will concede that leaving my female friend to wait alone wasn’t the best idea, but I was younger then and didn’t have the insight I do now.

My "Open Wound"

Picture: David Ritchie

I have repeatedly heard that tattoo means “open wound” in Samoan.

I am not sure if that is true or not, because I haven’t found a source reliable enough for me to trust it, but I would love to think it is true.

Regardless, there is still something very poetic and appropriate about it for me.

I had always wanted to get a tattoo, but the whole permanent aspect was a major speed bump that put me somewhat off it.

As I got older, I figured things out and learned more about myself. Over time I changed, as we all do.

Coming out was a pretty big deal for me, it permanently changed my relationship with my mother and my family. It changed how my friends saw me. It changed how I saw myself. How could it not?

That sweet wallflower, that gentle-hearted, ever-the-do-gooder boy I was died that day, and it wasn’t something I realised until writing this.

Coming out broke that boy.

To realise that the fact that I was gay (which was the one thing I was told never to be my entire life) broke the image I had of myself. I loved being the sweet and good boy, the one who made my mother proud and my family proud.

In some ways I still am that boy but it is not the same.

Seeing my mother's look of disgust, hearing her bang her head against her cupboard door, and hearing her wail “Why me?” as if I had just punished her in the worse way imaginable, had forever changed me.

A piece of me died that day, but in return I gained a stronger piece of me.

The piece of me who can stand up for himself when he wants to, a piece of me who does his own thing regardless of what others want, and who is still a kind person (or tries to be).

I gained a piece of me who recognises that I can’t be anything else but myself, even though it can be alienating. I am idiosyncratically me, and I am a better human being for it.

A year or so after coming out, I started falling in love with having a way to commemorate the day that I came out. I had forgotten the specific date that I had come out on, because there were more important things that had happened that day than for me to remember the date.

Anyway, thanks to a Facebook post, I found the date and the fateful post that came the day after I had done the bravest thing of my life.

Some time had pass and in the back of my mind, it was impossible for me to escape the idea of celebrating this act of bravery. To me, it was the scariest and bravest thing that I had ever done in my life, and I felt that I wanted to cherish that.

Fast forwarding a bit, a few ideas would pop up and then pass, and a new one would come along and then go but they all had my coming out involved in some shape or form.

I finally settled on an idea which excited me: why don’t I record myself saying the date I came out and then use the sound waves of that recording as a tattoo?

I thought about this idea actively for over a year and it was the one that stuck. Also it was the one that felt the most “me”.

The idea of a standard (though little generic) LGBT tattoo was cool but it felt too broad, especially for a community that I don’t entirely feel settled into. The sound waves idea appealed to me because of my love for music.

I don’t know where music became so vital to me, but it did.

When I was in primary school and part of the xylophone group performing at school events, when I did choir for a bit, when my mother and stepdad were arguing I would be in my room listening to music, when I was feeling sad, music would be there - when I was becoming depressed because the stress of keeping the gay secret had started killing out every drop of happiness – music was there.

It is why I run my music blog posts because a life without music is not a life at all, it is just an existence.

So...I had settled on it. I had figured out what I wanted and that was most of the war won.

Everyone knows how neurotic I can be and overanalyse everything, so for me to permanently mark my body in such a way, I had to get to a point where getting the tattoo felt so natural. I kept visualising what it would look like on my arm and the more I did that, the more I settled into the idea of getting one.

Picture: David Ritchie

Why the right arm? No reason other than the fact that it needed to be somewhere I could see it. 

Whenever I feel like shit or like I am not strong enough, the tattoo while be that reminded that I did the thing that scared me most. I did one of the bravest things I have ever done, and if I could do so, then I can certainly handle anything else that comes my way?

The only thing left to do was execute it.

Last week was a bit mad because I hadn’t thought out the details of getting a tattoo. I hadn’t even scouted out tattoo parlours and taken my time to settle on one. It was all fast-paced.

In all honesty, it needed to be. I would have procrastinated and maybe not gone through with it if it had been all delayed.

Wednesday - I made sure to record myself saying the date and then get that into a program which created the sound wave.

Thursday – I was off and also found out that I can’t just walk in and do a tattoo on the same day, so I would need to book an appointment. I had already been planning to see them the day before, but this only confirmed it.

Friday – I went into the place only with my design, and the rent money I usually pay my mother, and went to speak to the people at Metal Machine.

(Side-bar: I had initially planned to go to Wildfire but my friend suggested that I try Metal Machine because Wildfire is overpriced. Honestly, I did not put enough effort into finding a bargain because all that mattered to me was the tattoo.)

The very friendly tattoo covered lady at the parlour took my design, went up to one of the tattoo artists and asked him about it.

After some back and forth, he said that he can do it but the design needed to be 25% bigger.

So they made it bigger (who doesn’t like bigger? :P ) and then asked me if It was alright.

It was.

I then committed to it:

Female Trainee Tattoo Artist : “When would you like to make the appointment?”

Me: “Tomorrow if possible.”

Her: “I don’t think that will be possible as Andro has another client.”

Receptionist: “Patrick actually changed his appointment to Monday, so Andro is free tomorrow.”

Lady: “Then you can do tomorrow. We do require a 50% deposit though...”

Me: “Cool...Uhm, Can I swipe?”

Lady: “We only accept cash.”

Me: “Okay then –uses money from the rent money I pay-“

Lady: “Well then, we will see you tomorrow. –hands me a card with appointment details-”

Me: “Okay, cool.”

Picture: David Ritchie

I pretty much then freaked out that I was actually committing to getting a tattoo for the rest of the day.

Saturday- I was nervous, excited and scared, but I knew that it was something I wanted.

I had to do a few errands before, but soon enough 12 o'clock came and along with David Ritchie, a work colleague who came for moral support. I was at the tattoo parlour ready to get my tattoo on.

Filled in the indemnity form thing and then once that was all sorted, I met my tattoo artist.

He seemed super intimidating at first, but that was only because he was questioning me about the tattoo, and also he had a serious demeanour about it.

After sorting out the finer details about the tattoo, we were ready to roll.

He had talked me through everything before, seeing as it was my first time (pun unintended) but he calmed me and just was a really cool guy about it.

Picture: David Ritchie

So they took the design, made a sticker thing out of it and then used that to put on my skin...which is what they do because then they trace the tattoo on your skin and still have another reference to look at the same time.

I officially have a whole new respect for tattoo artists because they make you feel at ease, explain everything and still try to be friendly and sociable even though they have a job to do. Maybe I was very lucky that I got Andro, but he was a legend.

The whole experience was perfect, it hurt but was perfect.

Picture: David Ritchie

For me my tattoo is an open wound for me.

It is a physical representation of an internalised scar that will forever be with me.

Sometimes we forget that we can leave scars on each of mentally, emotionally and psychologically. My tattoo is a scar that I want to wear on me because it is a battle scar. A battle scar I want everyone to see because I am not ashamed of what it means.

It is my symbol of bravery and strength from a battle that I made it out of.

I survived, especially in a world where many LGBT kids kill themselves because they don’t have anything to fight for. If things hadn’t turned out the way it hard, I might not be here today.

*shudder*

It is a sobering thought, isn’t it?

Theo. Over and Out.

Pictures: David Ritchie

PS: The thing that I find really funny was how in all of this, I overlooked the part that someone was going to be puncturing my skin repeatedly with a needle. It hurts people. Getting a tattoo hurts, it did hurt less than I thought it would but it hurts. Those first few manoeuvres were painful but you adjust and try not to focus on it, which is why Andro was so legend.

PPS: Also me and my mom are on good terms now. She doesn't accept the fact that I am gay but she still loves me and respects me which is really all I can ask from her.

My Brother’s Surprise...

We live in a very material world, and it’s a world where we sometimes calculate how much someone loves us by how much money they spend on us.

It’s a sad reality, but it is the truth.

Money makes the world go round.

There is someone really special to me, and he is my brother. Not in any biological connection but he is family and I would do anything for him.

I have been friends with Byron since about Grade 10, which makes it 9 years. We joke that it’s both of our longest relationships ever, but it’s true. (I can’t even get a relationship to 5 months, never mind a year... but I digress).

He has always been there for me no matter what, he was always just accepting of me regardless of whatever else was going on.

I was also so lucky that his parents were very accepting of our friendship and welcomed me into their home. I have been through a lot with his family and I am glad to have had them be there for me when things were rough.

Byron's Brother Caleb

It’s been 9 years of ups and downs, good times and bad, and stories that will last us a lifetime.

We don’t see each other often and we don’t spend as much time together when he is around, but we have a bond that will always connect us. It’s what makes him my brother.

Last year October time, I decided that I wanted to say thank you to him with a gift, but I wanted it to be something worth more than just something I bought. So I happened to receive a picture frame and suddenly I had the idea of having it filled with memories and giving it to him.

 It took a while for me to finalise the whole thing because it was just an idea and in between all that life was happening. He was living his life that side at his lodge being a game ranger, while I was living mine being a journalist.

I then roped in the help of our friend Chelsea who I am also pretty grateful for, and she was so awesome because without her help I would not have been able to making the picture frame as great as it turned out.

I had planned to have given the gift to him as a Christmas present but because his parents were travelling to Namibia, he decided he would not come down to Cape Town during his week off and so then it just gave me more time to get it sorted.

I contacted his girlfriend around Christmas asking for her help with a few pictures, which was interesting because I had never even met or spoken to the girl before sending that message, but I had heard about her often enough for her to not feel like a total stranger.

She had managed to get pictures of him, without him realising the greater purpose behind it, and sent them to me.

So all the pictures had been chosen and Chelsea was too awesome because she came through and had it finished in time for his next off week.

Then came the issue of finding the time to give it to him.

What usually happens when Byron is in Cape Town on his off week, is that he is busy because all his friends and family all want to see him in some way, but there's not enough time for him to see everyone.

I had thought it was going to happen over the weekend but he had other plans so it wasn’t going to happen then, I had message my friend Chelsea even saying that if he pops around, give it to him because he is so busy and I am barely seeing him, but please just record it and take pictures.

She was like, “No way am I giving him this thing without you being here, fool.”

So she messaged him, and said something along the lines of “there is no way we are hanging out without Theo”, or something a little more tactful, but in any case she got it done. Haha. If there is anything I learned from this, it was that don’t underestimate the power of Chelsea.

So then along came Monday, got home from work, he called, picked me up and off to Chelsea we went to hang out.

Chelsea got us in, and showed me where it was without Byron realising. I had brought along a bow and wanted to stick onto the frame. I had to fake going to the bathroom just so I could get into her room to attach the bow.

After that, I walked out of her room with the frame in my hand anxiously waiting to give it to him. Byron was playing a game on my phone, and when I was standing there awkwardly waiting for his attention, he was all “Wait, I am playing this game”.

I just rolled my eyes and started talking:



I must say that the reaction I got from him was more than what I had hoped. It made me sooo damn happy seeing how much the gift meant to him. As rewarding as it is giving someone something, that tight arm crushing hug, and the total surprise had told me that I had done the right thing.

He loved it.

What I love about our friendship is that we say “I love you” to each other... and we do. I love him because he is family to me. No matter what, he will always be family. He is my brother.

We have both changed so much over the years and become such different people, each living our own lives. He has a life of his own away from me, and as much as I miss him, it makes me happy knowing that he is doing his own thing and enjoying it.

All I want for him is to be happy, and he is.

Also, if I got started on how awesome our friend Chelsea is then I would not end but I just wanted to give her a shout-out for her helping me and being a radically cool person.

The night I gave him the gift, we had spent the rest of the time in Chelsea’s home just hanging out and spending time. It is such moments with friends I will always cherish.

Earlier last week, after him having been without wifi and signal, he finally got back in contact with us, and I got around to asking him if he had hung up the picture frame.

Of course, I received a snarky response from him, but he showed me that it did go up.

It is hung

To my brother Byron - I hope that if you are reading this (you better be), you realise that I do really love you. I am so lucky to have someone like you in my life...you fool.

Stay awesome.

Theo. Over and Out.

PS - Your squeamishness whenever I bring up something sexually gay will forever amuse me. *chuckles*

Reaching The Ceiling

I’ve had a very busy week/end...

It was exciting and fun but exhausting.

I was so out of fumes that when I got invited to the Nicky Romero gig at Shimmy Beach on Saturday, I declined it, never mind that I also had plans to attend the Magents SA Menswear Week after party.

Again, crazy hey? How much fun would I have had just chilling, dancing and enjoying the cool exclusivity and access that my job affords me?

BUT, I was autopiloting because I hadn't been sleeping properly, I have been stressing about working on graphics for my work’s anti-racism campaign while still doing my usual day-to-day work routine, and covering SA Menswear Week
.

Granted the last bit, I brought on myself because I wanted to do the show again this year and also as a gay man, I love staring and talking to hot guys.

He was in the local production of Rocky Horror. His name is Shaun Chad Smit.

SA Menswear Week was a fish-out-of-water experience for me the last time, the second time around, it was the same except that I felt more comfortable in my odd-man-out role which made me enjoy the experience all the more.

I went to university with the lovely gentleman. Find him: @Brat_M_

It was a lot of fun just experiencing everything that goes into a fashion week and the crazy outfits you see, the amazing designers you witness, and the models you fall in lust with. 

Boy did I fall in lust. Haha.

Eden Classens

My only regret from the experience was that I wasn’t brave enough to ask the number of the guy I was attracted to, regardless of whether he was team homo or not, asking him would have hurt no one...but I didn’t because well duh, he was a model and I’m a awkward, guy who gets shy and flustered.

It was a miracle in and of itself that I was able to get selfies with the hot boys.

My job is fun, I get to meet cool people and do cool things that I typically wouldn’t like interview Jean de Villiers and Nicky Romero, meet F.W de Klerk, the J&B Met and the colour run. It is all experiences that I am grateful for but sometimes it can be exhausting.

I think the most important thing I learned this week was to know my limit.

I am glad that while I got to have invites and experience all these things, I know when I have reached my limit and that is a big thing for me. I would like to think that I work hard, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, but I do try my best. 

Knowing when I have reached my ceiling is important thing for me to realise because everything I work on at that point is just without love and I am just running on autopilot – there is no desire to do my best, only to get it done.

Don’ run on autopilot, it’s important to take care of yourself. I don’t always take care of myself, but I am learning. 

You only have one you, so try not ruining yourself.

Theo. Over and Out.

What I love about this picture was that I started pulling some crazy eyes, and he played along....

PS – To the super hot Eden Classens, you are so sweet and seem like a cool guy, I know you’re probably like super busy, dating other models, but if you ever want to go for coffee  with a shy-ish awkward guy who will make you laugh (I at least have that going for me) and then hit me up.

Things said in Anger...

Time

You’re seething with anger, and you aren’t thinking clearly, so there you go and say something so cruel you don’t even recognise yourself...

It happens, and it is something that you have to learn to deal with – no matter what side of the argument you find yourself on.

I became very interested in this “Things said in Anger” topic following a big argument that I had with my mother.

I won’t get into the details but following the argument, my mother then not only launched the dustpan, but she also aimed and threw her ceramic bowl, which had been half-filled with cereal, at me.

It didn't hit me, but the point was to intimidate me.

I left shortly thereafter to go to work, but needless to say that it was a day that I don’t want to experience again.

The whole day I felt this knot in my stomach, and I had also gotten stuck on this notion of things said in anger.

Some people get aggressive when angry, not just physically but verbally too.

Swear words are quickly thrown at you, and things are said with the intent to hurt you.

What I found interesting about it, well interesting is bad word but it was something that caught my attention, was how issues from years ago suddenly reared its head.

Things that you thought had been dealt with were once again laid bare, all with the intent to cause guilt and hurt.

It just goes show that sometimes we say we’re past an issue, but sometimes that is a lie.

I never get angry, and a large part is that I am scared of what I might do or say...

I have this huge fear of getting violent, but more so of hurting someone with words – of saying something so full of vitriol and malice that you just want hurt this other person's feelings as much as you can.

It is frightening, and people sometimes underestimate just how much damaged can be done with words.

Sure, you can argue that things said in anger are not thoughts of a sober mind, but they are things that you feel without any filtering or editing because they are purely instinctive.

Some can forgive, but if you are someone like me, you will always be aware of those things somewhere in your mind. Even if things were said in anger, they came from a place within the person where they thought or felt like that at a particular point.

However not all things said in anger can be a bad thing...

Sometimes things said in anger reveal a hidden part of ourselves that we didn’t want to deal with. By revealing that hidden part, it may lead us to processing things that we weren’t aware of.

Not all anger is a bad thing, because sometimes anger gives us courage to say the things we may be afraid to say.

Things said in anger sometimes reveal more than what we would like to. It puts us at our most vulnerable but also at our most volatile.

It reveals all the baggage that we carry with us, moments and experiences we've collected - all of which have left an indelible mark on us - and then depending on which person we are angry at, these moments and experiences come bubbling up. Sometimes when they do come up, we may choose to use it as a weapon.

Weaponised aggression.

Anger is a valid emotion, but it a dangerous one. People have committed murders in anger because they were consumed by the emotion.

You have every right to feel angry, because it is a natural human emotion that you will feel at some point, but you have to be careful of what you do with that anger. The words you say when angry may cause irreparable harm, and the physical manifestations of that anger present a greater hazard.

There is no tried and tested method to deal with anger but we all have to find our own quirks because if we don’t that very anger may just consume you from the inside out.

Schindlers List

Theo. Over and Out.


PS - What the whole experience with my mother had also revealed to me about myself was that all I wanted to do was speak to one specific person, but it was someone who I couldn’t speak to. It proved to be an informative experience of how to do deal with a matter when you can’t speak to the person you would like to.

Letting Yourself Down

It comes out of nowhere. That feeling...a concrete brick sinking into the pit of your stomach. It's covered with guilt, failure and disappointment. Usually it's the disappointment that stings the most.

I think that it is one of the most basic human feelings to want to be there for another person. Hoping to not let them down. It is something that I think everyone struggles with. No one wants to be a disappointment to the people closest to you. Feeling like a failure fucking sucks.

Unfortunately it is unavoidable. It happens to the best of us.

A topic that pertains to this though, that I wanted to tackle was: letting yourself down.

We have our moral codes and our ethics that we consciously (or subconsciously) live by. From a young age we were influenced from our parents, our surroundings and our experiences to form our own code of conduct and ethics.

The metaphorical lines in the sand we draw for ourselves; making vows and promises that we will never cross certain lines.

In an ideal world, we would never cross those lines, but the reality is that we do. Whenever we drop our standards or do something that compromises what we stand for - It is always a difficult pill to swallow.

We realise how full of imperfections we are, and how, as humans, we are influenced and affected by so much that happens around us.

I struggle with this.

Recently I had a moment where I felt like I was letting myself down. I realise in retrospect that it was over something small, but I honestly felt like I had disappointed myself. I strive to be a good person, and do the "right" thing but sometimes in doing so I set myself up for failure too.

There is no such thing as the "right" thing because what maybe right for you, could hurt someone else.

Everyone is hero in their own story, but yet, they maybe the villain in someone else's.

When something happens that I could have prevented, and it forces me to compromises my standards, naturally that makes me feel like shit.

Of course sometimes things are out of my control, which I cannot fix, but I can control how I react. In some ways, I let it get to me - which only does more harm than good, but the least I can do is dust myself off, and try my best to keep on going on.

A lesson to remember though is that you are not infallible. You are only human.

There are those instances too when we must violate our own promises and standard because life is never a matter of black and white, it is rather a series of experiences and interactions which makes us realise that sometimes we are living in the grey areas.

For example, you promised yourself that you would never cheat and that you hated everyone who cheated. Then out of nowhere came that instance where you found yourself in that situation; either because you got yourself there or because someone else lied to you and you suddenly found yourself in that predicament.

I have learned that while I do still think cheating is wrong, sometimes people screw up. It can be a one time thing, or it can be a issue that people have to work out within themselves but sometimes shit happens. Though, shit which gets caused by people themselves is an entirely other issue on it's own.

Also the instances of lying to those close to you because you know something - a truth that you have no right in revealing, that is going to come and hit them like wrecking ball, so all you can do is put on a brave face and prepare as you watch a unmovable wrecking ball about to damage them.

You feel like shit because there is nothing you can do, but you wait because you know that when that wrecking ball hits, you are going to need to be there for them.

No one wants to feel helpless, but sometimes things happen in such a way that you are struck helpless. Sometimes people need to help themselves because you can only do so much.

I was really interested in finding out what other people had to say on this matter, so I did.

"It feels like you've hit a new low," a colleague shared when asked how it feels when you let yourself down. One gentlemen, who overheard what I was writing about, gave some wisdom on the matter, "Chalk it up to experience. A learning curve - you can do better next time."



I was however, able to connect with this sentiment a female friend shared.

"It will be on my mind for weeks. I will think about the whole time, but then I will just end up disappointing myself... I will just have to deal with it and get over the initial pain afterwards."

Life forces you to adapt your standards and codes of conduct because life is life. You have to be malleable and adaptable because if you don't, then life will knock the shit out of you and beat you into submission.

BUT these are just moments that force us to realise that the line in the sand we drew for ourselves sometimes get washed away by the sea of life, we just have to be prepared to redraw them and repeatedly adjust.

Theo. Over and Out


PS- This blog post started out one way, and then it started taking a very different turn the more I started thinking about it. The reason for this was that I was all ready to say something and for it be a certain way, but the more I thought about it, and how life has affected me the more malleable I had to be.

It came down to a situation of idealism vs reality.

That aside, letting yourself down still sucks so try to be as true to you as you can be when you aren't stretching and adapting for life.

Update and Retrospect: The Douchebag Ex?

This is part of my update and retrospect series that I am randomly starting because I have been so busy that it feels like I am losing touch with my life and my emotions. This is more for my sanity than anything else really. Also it is a way to keep the people updated about how I am without giving them a generic answer. Often we all use copy and paste explanations because we are too lazy to articulate how we really feel.

I thought that I would start off with the thing that has affected me most, then I would get onto the rest. First up is this post, then work and then friends and then music or something random. Whatever floats my boat really. We shall see.

Break-up epiphanies

So because of my tendency to get all emotional and attached, I fell for my ex-boyfriend very quickly. (Yes, we dated for a little over a month, sue me. Was I in love? No, but I was on my way).

Recently however, I had an epiphany. My tendency to only want to see the good in people, results in me often idealising them and missing their flaws. The same thing happened with my relationship.

I have spoken about my ownership of fault in the relationship before but for a long time I felt like the break-up was more my fault than his, which I realise now is not true. To claim more fault is actually unfair to me.

The break-up was both our fault.

One of the flaws in our relationship, was that I wasn’t given the time I needed to adjust to a vital fact about him. This vital fact actually had a big impact on our relationship. I would be less vague and disclose what this fact is, but it’s not for me to share. He wouldn’t have a problem with it, but I feel like it is not my place.

That aside, this fact was an important factor in our relationship and I was on a steep learning curve of how to deal with this. It was unfair to me to not give me the right amount of time I needed to process.

I do realise that I should have taken the relationship slower and been more patient with him, but that aside, I deserved to be given some time to learn about this fact.

He pulled a douchebag move.

Now, I am not saying that he is a douchebag (even though I would be expected to), but he pulled a douchebag move. There's a difference - everybody pulls a douchebag move.

That was not the only douchebag move he pulled.

He then felt the need that in our break-up to say that I was emotionally manipulating him. This was one of the things that hurt the absolute most because it was a major insult to my character.

It was insulting because obviously he didn’t know me well enough.

I have seen how emotional manipulations looks, asking someone to not throw in the towel yet was not it.

For him to think I was emotionally manipulating him, when in actuality I was fighting for our relationship, was like he spat in my face. I have too much on my plate and things happening in my life to waste time manipulating people.

Another issue was that he really sucked at communication, and he used the “I am a scientist” excuse. I get that he was genius science boffin but that does not excuse him from being a human.

All I asked for was honesty about how he was feeling – even if it was not something I wanted to hear, then I still wanted him to tell me.

But he didn’t...

Except when he was breaking up with me – that was when I got quite a bit of honesty.

That aside, me calling him out on his douchebag moves does not mean that he is one.

From his perspective, he was trying to deal.

Sure he could’ve handled the situation better, but he was doing what he thought was best for him.

The factor in our relationship (that I mentioned above), was something that he was dealing with daily, and I guess that he didn’t want to feel like he was forcing me to deal with the issue. My problem was that I wanted to be there to help, but apparently my help wasn’t good enough.

The more I wanted to help, the more he didn’t want my help.

Also, I am guessing that he had no clue how to deal with someone who inherently is a more emotional person than him, and that scared him. I assume he felt overwhelmed.

I can also understand how from his perspective I could have been clingy...but if seeing someone every two weeks is clingy, then damn.

I feel like in the end, the only way he could get himself to break away was to hurt me enough so that I would want to let him go. It worked.

Issues aside, I appreciate the relationship we had.

He was a good guy, flawed (like me and everyone else in this world) but a good guy.

He was a lovely guy who made me laugh a lot. He has a deep love for tea, enjoys staring at the moon sometimes during the day because it is an awesome mindfuck. He has a great fondness for Harry Potter, loves sad poetry and the Universe at large.

He even likes this adorable little Red Panda. 

He was impressive below the belt too – not going to lie.

He made me smile every day and he was considerate (even getting me my own tin of coffee when he only drinks tea.)

Those are only a few of things that he did for me. He made me very happy in the short time we were together and that is something I will always remember and cherish.

He was lovely, and one day I hope that he makes someone very happy. All I want is from him to be happy.

That is all I want for everyone in life actually.

I have said this before, and I will say this again. I would sacrifice my happily-ever-after, if it meant that everyone else in the world had no more problems forever.

Is that unrealistic? Yes. Would I bitch and moan? Sure. Would it all be worth the sacrifice? Absolutely.

The world’s problems are greater than what I am, and if I could fix it forever? How could I not?

 

My relationship with my ex-boyfriend taught me a lot. One of the lessons was that I have to be mindful of the fact that when I like someone, I like them and not what they represent.

I feel like this is a issue that many people face, not just me but that sometimes we get caught up in what people represent and not focus on who they are as people. Be sure that when you are in a relationship or are starting something with someone, that you are doing it for them and not what role that you want them to fill.

That is not right or fair to them.

As for the ex-boyfriend - am I over him? I don’t know.

I went to "our" restaurant this past week and I wasn’t sad about being there, but I did hope that by some random serendipity that he would walk in. Lame right?

But maybe that is another lesson that I will learn, I will never really be over him but I just need to find a way to move on. Sometimes not everything resolves itself nicely.

There was equal blame in the end of our relationship and I made many mistakes too, but I am learning.

All I know is that my priority is taking each day as it comes, and I am enjoying it. Sure work is kicking my ass but I don’t mind (too much) because I have learned so much. I am exhausted and feel like I need to take a week off (which I will be doing soonish) but it is really rewarding.

I think work reaffirmed to me that I’ve always been the person who I thought I am. Sure I may not always know who that is, but for damn sake, I am only 22...er... almost 23.

"I am what I am... a natural disaster." - Shark Attack by Grouplove.

I try my best to be good person, and try to make everyone’s day a little better. Sometimes I get shy and get into my own bubble too much or on the reverse side get too excitable but otherwise I am trying my best.

We are all trying our best with the lives we were given.

Sometimes we need to cut ourselves a little slack.

Theolin. Over and Out.

PS - Devils Advocate: What if I am being the overly attached weirdo who can't let go because we only dated for over a month? No one wants to be that person. He has moved on as if nothing happened I think while I am...still trying. Maybe I am just overanalysing.