I tend to be eerily accurate with my predictions.
There was The First, of course. You could say it was love at first sight, although it wasn't. It was a certainty, a fact: I didn't know his name, I had never had a boyfriend, I never expected to have one, yet I knew that by the end of the year we would be together. I didn't go out of my way to make it happen, but it did. As I knew it would. And, again as I knew it would, it ended.
The Second happened unexpectedly. He remained an uncertainty for some time, during and even after. I hoped, for what reason I do not know, but eventually that passed and I was certain once more.
The Third wasn't so much a certainty as a destiny: he was bound to happen.
He became The Boy.
And, by my current prediction, may very soon be just The Third.
The change may have been gradual, but, as always, a moment of clarity brings the prediction, and life is uncertain no more.
In one way, it was a certainty from the very beginning. By all the laws of logic, it shouldn't last. By all the laws of logic, it shouldn't have happen at all. The problem is, one stroke of good luck jaded me and made me think anything could happen, no matter how impossible or improbable, how far the distance or how disgruntled the parents.
The thing is, life doesn't happen that way. Life isn't a fairy tale, life doesn't always turn out well.
Until this Thursday night, I'd held the doctrine that everything always turned out okay. Procrastination was fine, I knew I'd get the project completed before the due date and do well on it. Getting sick was fine, I knew I'd eventually get better after one or two weeks. Having some accident or other was fine, I knew there was a grown-up who would come and make me safe and take the hurt away. Government papers and banks and forms and taxes were fine, I knew there would always be a knowledgeable grown-up who would take care of it for me. A long-distance relationship was fine, I knew it would keep going forever in the fairytale way.
But in real life, that's not how it happens.
In real life, sometimes you get bad grades, sometimes you don't get better, sometimes you have to get complicated and expensive surgery, sometimes you get in trouble, sometimes you have no money. Sometimes you fight.
In real life, you have to think about the future. Now is fine, but what about then? What about grad school? What about jobs? What about families? I have too much ahead of me to think about spending the rest of my life with one person and having to plan everything around that. I have too much ahead of me to wait forever until, by some miracle, we end up in the same place again. I have too much ahead of me to not explore the world and the people in it.
The bickering gets to me. Playful, pretend-playful, or neither, it's bickering and I can't stand it. I can't stand to be the perpetual cheerleader, to always try to find solutions to problem, to always say "That's OK, do what's in your best interest, I can wait another six months to see you." I can't stand to always have to defend my opinions on such and such, whether about a Halloween costume or cultural differences. I can't stand the long silences sometimes when he needs time to think.
I know him well enough to know he's thinking roughly the same thing.
I'd like to say I got my crying over and done with several weeks ago, but I know that when it does end, I most likely won't be able to help it.
I'm sorry, Boy. While you're doing your thinking, I'm doing mine, too, and this is the conclusion I've come to.
It was great while it lasted, and I don't regret it, any of it, but it feels like it's time we parted ways.
Sure, it may take some time to reach the actual end, but I don't see any way out.
Time to think and explore my new grown-up world.
There was The First, of course. You could say it was love at first sight, although it wasn't. It was a certainty, a fact: I didn't know his name, I had never had a boyfriend, I never expected to have one, yet I knew that by the end of the year we would be together. I didn't go out of my way to make it happen, but it did. As I knew it would. And, again as I knew it would, it ended.
The Second happened unexpectedly. He remained an uncertainty for some time, during and even after. I hoped, for what reason I do not know, but eventually that passed and I was certain once more.
The Third wasn't so much a certainty as a destiny: he was bound to happen.
He became The Boy.
And, by my current prediction, may very soon be just The Third.
The change may have been gradual, but, as always, a moment of clarity brings the prediction, and life is uncertain no more.
In one way, it was a certainty from the very beginning. By all the laws of logic, it shouldn't last. By all the laws of logic, it shouldn't have happen at all. The problem is, one stroke of good luck jaded me and made me think anything could happen, no matter how impossible or improbable, how far the distance or how disgruntled the parents.
The thing is, life doesn't happen that way. Life isn't a fairy tale, life doesn't always turn out well.
Until this Thursday night, I'd held the doctrine that everything always turned out okay. Procrastination was fine, I knew I'd get the project completed before the due date and do well on it. Getting sick was fine, I knew I'd eventually get better after one or two weeks. Having some accident or other was fine, I knew there was a grown-up who would come and make me safe and take the hurt away. Government papers and banks and forms and taxes were fine, I knew there would always be a knowledgeable grown-up who would take care of it for me. A long-distance relationship was fine, I knew it would keep going forever in the fairytale way.
But in real life, that's not how it happens.
In real life, sometimes you get bad grades, sometimes you don't get better, sometimes you have to get complicated and expensive surgery, sometimes you get in trouble, sometimes you have no money. Sometimes you fight.
In real life, you have to think about the future. Now is fine, but what about then? What about grad school? What about jobs? What about families? I have too much ahead of me to think about spending the rest of my life with one person and having to plan everything around that. I have too much ahead of me to wait forever until, by some miracle, we end up in the same place again. I have too much ahead of me to not explore the world and the people in it.
The bickering gets to me. Playful, pretend-playful, or neither, it's bickering and I can't stand it. I can't stand to be the perpetual cheerleader, to always try to find solutions to problem, to always say "That's OK, do what's in your best interest, I can wait another six months to see you." I can't stand to always have to defend my opinions on such and such, whether about a Halloween costume or cultural differences. I can't stand the long silences sometimes when he needs time to think.
I know him well enough to know he's thinking roughly the same thing.
I'd like to say I got my crying over and done with several weeks ago, but I know that when it does end, I most likely won't be able to help it.
I'm sorry, Boy. While you're doing your thinking, I'm doing mine, too, and this is the conclusion I've come to.
It was great while it lasted, and I don't regret it, any of it, but it feels like it's time we parted ways.
Sure, it may take some time to reach the actual end, but I don't see any way out.
Time to think and explore my new grown-up world.
2 comments:
Ouch!
Ouch indeed. I want to say so much more but....
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