I Broke Up with My Non-Boyfriend Yesterday
The non-boyfriend. You heard me right, folks.
As a product of instant gratification in our digitally-inclined society, we have commitment issues.
The dating game is completely fucked — e don’t like making plans, much less even giving thought to putting in the work required to build and foster a successful relationship. That very fear of commitment caused me to end an entire year of memories yesterday, one year of a connection that started so benign and platonic, only to snowball into that big, scary three-word phrase that every Millennial is afraid to say and really feel for another human being:
“I love you.”
I had fallen in love… and it was glorious.
It was also extremely painful and one of the hardest, most reflective relationships I have ever experienced. At 23 years young, I am a successful freelance model and creative strategist, funding my adventurous life through bartending. My life revolves around creating cool shit. It was only natural to catch the eye of another artist who enjoyed making money — this one just happened to be ten years my senior.
We weren’t supposed to fall in love.
I honestly do not even know what the fuck actually happened. It started with a meet-and-greet from social media and quickly spiraled into this lust-infused obsession (mostly on my side) between the two of us. We just looked good together. The energy was magnetic — they say when you’re happy and smiling that you attract those good vibes, man. We so did. We were on fire.
And then reality hit: We didn’t know what the hell we were actually doing in our own, separate lives.
I am floating on this weird wave of uncertainty for my future — totally indicative of the trademark early 20s phase of life, where everything is questioned with a “What If?” I didn’t have a realistic plan with my modeling career either; I marketed myself 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, nonstop, to produce the powerhouse freelance model I am today. I truly believe all of that passion, drive, and the actual “making moves” part not only enlightened, but intimidated my muse. The apple of my eye quickly realized about a month into hot sex and emotional conversation, “Damn, I really need to get it together and DO something with my art.”
And so the story goes from cinematic to complicated.
We went from blissful and without a worry in the world to hyper-aware of everything. I focused on my career, he focused on his… and with that, the flamboyancy of our attraction went obsolete. Very quickly, it became apparent to me that our relationship was, from now on, to be hidden. I didn’t want it to be that way. We pretended our relations were restricted to an innocent friendship, selling everyone we knew the good old introduction of, “This is my spirit animal.” So #2017.
I quickly grew unhappy.
I would go home after a night of working in nightlife and wait for those 2am, 3am, sometimes 4am drunk texts. Over time, they stopped being exclusively drunk. Somehow our late-night meetings became more than just the biweekly hookup. They grew into something more, something that included lively conversation, bursts of laughter, dancing to rhythmic beats that turned us into who we wanted to be, in that moment, right there together. It wasn’t just lust anymore.
Somehow we fell down the rabbit hole, and I just grew more confused.
Months passed, seasons changed. I kept fighting for something more from the man that stole my heart, but never did his position change. We had a relationship… we never had a relationship. I waited impatiently, then patiently. I waited for one year. I waited for so long that yesterday I just calmly decided, hey, this isn’t right for me anymore. This isn’t healthy.
It’s painful to look at someone in the face whom you love dearly, clearly knowing you cannot have them.
Was he lying to me about his feelings for me? Maybe so. Was he totally honest with me? Definitely not. I would say he was 98% honest — genuine in his love, but too closed off and vague about the details in his life. In the beginning, I thought this so-called privacy was mysterious and thus, sexy. That quickly dissipated into suspicion, and after finding details of another woman involved, eventual resentment.
It was the lack of trust that really killed everything for me.
I was in a bubble. I had this crazy concoction of what love was supposed to be in my mind. I was clinging for dear life onto false hope that I would be held close, cherished and loved as viciously as I loved the person in front of me. I fell for “The timing isn’t right…” and of course, the classic, “Just because I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
You deserve someone who will love and appreciate you fully through a commitment.
I am sick and tired of listening to the bullshit industry trends today surrounding love. Rules scour dating blogs, stating, 1) Don’t text too frequently, 2) Don’t ask too many questions, and my personal favorite, 3) It’s okay to bend your relationship boundaries because it’s 2017, times are changing, and we are now progressive.
Progressive, my ass. Last I checked, Merriam-Webster defined “progressive” as someone or a society that challenges or encourages social reform. That definition does not, I repeat, it does NOT work as a viable excuse or explanation for cheating and wishy-washy practices in general. Polyamory is a very real thing and has been since the dawn of time in past civilizations. Sitting in a car at 4am trying to convince your friend that you really do love her, but you also love someone else and are currently trying a relationship with them instead, is not polyamorous love. It isn’t actually love at all. It’s a bunch of utter confusion and makes the other partner stuck in that black hole purgatory of always being second place.
Like a sidepiece.
I think the entire experience has really taught me a lot about myself in terms of what I can, and cannot, handle in love. That formula above might work for some, but for me? Nah. I like to think people on this Earth want passion, drive and real desire from our partners to make a relationship work. For me, I go all in. I don’t half-ass anything, especially my feelings. Neither should you.
Yesterday, I broke up with my non-boyfriend. The man who promised me love, gave me love, but couldn’t give me the commitment I wanted. Moral of the story? Don’t rewrite your ethics or play by anyone else’s rules, other than your own. You are the pilot in your own journey, and it is through that shitty post-breakup silver lining of clarity that life starts to make a little more sense on the flip side. Recognize that love is wonderful and should not bring you pain all the time.
You deserve to be happy.