Are We Out Of the Woods Yet?: An honest look at my favorite (but saddest) relationship

For this post, you should obviously be listening to “Out of The Woods” by Taylor Swift. Probably on repeat. No, definitely on repeat. Or this specific performance of it on repeat.

Logistics: If this is your first time here, parentheses with a number inside them (ex: (1)) indicate footnotes you should read at the end.

While I was back home for the holidays, my best friend and I were driving to get brunch with a few other friends. It was the first time that weekend that we had a chance to be alone and catch up. So, as girlfriends do, she first made fun of my sub-par driving skills, but then asked about my love life. Or the non-existence of it.

I told her that I recently got back into dating and had gone out with a few different guys. One of the dates was pleasant enough, but the other didn’t end up going the way I had hoped.

“The whole process of getting back into dating is fine, but awkward,” I told her(1).

After a few back and forths about dating, my friend asked me an interesting question: “Which of your past relationships have you been the saddest about?”

Naturally, I thought I was going to say the name of the last guy I was in a committed relationship with, but the name that flew out of my mouth was much different.

And I thought, whoa. That was honest.

I questioned why I said it. Maybe because this relationship had accidentally (4) worked its way into many recent conversations. Or maybe it was because Santa gifted me with a flight voucher back to Europe and I thought of him. Or perhaps I was just having an honest moment. I thought it was weird, but I let it go.

The moment was fleeting because everything about him came into screaming color (5) though when Taylor Swift dropped the music video for “Out of the Woods” this past week.

Since the moment I first heard OOTW, it reminded me of him. The song describes a relationship where you’re never really quite sure where you stand. You are riddled with constant feelings of anxiety. Will we get over this hurdle? Is today going to be the day this all ends? Are we ever really going to start?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Those thoughts were all constants for me during the time we spent together. Sadly, it was the only consistent thing about us.

Just yesterday, I told my coworker that this guy was my favorite person. He was my favorite relationship. But also, my saddest.

She asked what I meant by that.

And I thought back to the first moment we met.

I remember it so clearly. He was standing in front of me in line at the bar. His hat caught my eye, so I asked him about it. And then we talked, and laughed, and danced the whole night away until we physically had to be removed from the bar. And it all ended with a kiss I’ll never forget where I, then, swiftly turned around and ran through the streets of Piccadilly Circus with my roommate so we wouldn’t miss the last Tube ride home.

I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. But, he found me.

And before I knew it, I was in deep. There were many nights of dancing, laughing, drinking Strongbow and too many Jager Bombs (don’t ask), stolen kisses in London’s alleys, grabbing a hot dog or donor kebab on the way home, and walking back to our flats hand-in-hand telling each other about our lives. During the days, we’d message each other asking about what was going on at work, where the group was going to meet up that night, our plans for the Canary Islands, and what we were eating for lunch.

I remembered it all.

I know he doesn’t. Because I knew I felt more for him than he felt for me.

And let me tell you, that was the worst part.

He never knew the constant, heart wrenching feelings of anxiety I had. He didn’t know I spent nights crying to my roommates about the instability of it all. He didn’t know what I would have given to just spend a day in Hyde Park talking, laughing, and kissing. He didn’t know how much more free-spirited I felt when I was with him and how happy that made me. I came alive when I was with him. He didn’t know how much it meant when he twirled me around out on the dance floor. He didn’t know I caught his glances at me from across the room or the butterflies I felt when that happened. He didn’t know I hated fighting with him. And he didn’t know how scared I was the day I had to fly back home.

He didn’t know any of it. But, I remember.

Oh, I remember.

I remember taking off from Heathrow Airport and overlooking the city of London. It was like looking down at a map where I could pinpoint the entirety of our relationship. The spot he kissed me for the first time, the street where we told each other our deepest, darkest secrets, the hot dog stand I made him stop at and admitted to him my love for the disgusting food (something he found endearing about me), the front steps where he held me as I cried about the passing of my beloved childhood pet, the bar where we saw each other for the last time.

All our memories were laid out for me and they kept getting more distant as the airplane ascended higher and higher into the clouds. The tears silently fell down my face because something inside me knew that our time together was over.

And when I landed, it was.

He wanted to remain friends. I knew I couldn’t do that. So, I stopped talking to him. I didn’t answer his phone calls, texts, his instant messages. It was too painful to engage with him.

Unfortunately, we had already booked a trip together before we ended things. I knew I had to bury the hatchet before we took this trip (see uncomfortable situation commentary below). So, I reached out to him and we talked for a long time about everything. I tried my best to be as honest as possible, but he didn’t know that when we said “goodbye” to each other that summer night, I curled up in my bed and cried.

But on that trip, between the trivia bets, the baseball game, the nights out getting drinks, the visit to the beach, and nodding off to sleep on his shoulder during the plane ride, we decided to give this another try.

For a good solid month, we tried. He visited me, met my best friends. I met his best friends, spent time on his turf, and met his parents. He called me when he was at a music festival during a time the song “Free Bird” was playing and said he wished I was there. I replied, “I’m sure by the time I would get there, ‘Free Bird’ would still be playing.” (6)

We laughed about my witty joke, and then he said, “God, I love you.”

He told me on a few occasions that he wanted me to be his girlfriend, but in the morning, he’d never remember. He didn’t know how many pieces of my heart shattered every time I woke up still in the same predicament.

Eventually one night again turned into one morning, but this specific time I knew it was the end. I knew as soon as I went back home, that we’d be over with. I didn’t hear from him for three days, until my phone rang. And it was him. A few minutes later, it was done.

He didn’t know that I curled up into a ball on my bathroom floor and cried and cried until my roommates literally picked me up off the floor. The only thing he knew was that we were over.

As much as all of that was sad, it’s still the only relationship I think back on and smile. How could I regret the fun, laughter, the passion, but ultimately the friendship we had? I could never look back on all of that with anger because our relationship was worthy and had all the makings of something truly special. It just never really began. That’s the saddest part to think about, because imagine what could have been.

There are passing moments I remember him and think “what if”. What if timing would have been on our side? What if he hadn’t been so scared? What if he would have fought for us?

But those are all unproductive questions and there are now things I know for sure.

What I know is that it won’t happen for us. It will never work out, and I’m OK with that. I’m fully OK with that, because if it had worked out, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t be living in a city I love. I wouldn’t be working at a job where I get the creative freedom to fulfill my passions and dreams. I wouldn’t be sharing this post with all of you. And, honestly, I’m happy. I’m really happy.

And I know he’s happy. And that’s all I want for this beautiful weirdo I once had the pleasure of getting to know a little bit better.

Just because a relationship was fragile, doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. Just because it never really started, doesn’t make it insignificant. And I think that’s what “Out of the Woods” is all about — losing someone, but finding the beauty in the tragedy. We weren’t able to find our clearing, but we were able to find our resolution.

And that’s OK, because what we both know for sure is that two complete strangers found each other and spent an unforgettable time together in one of the most amazing cities in the world. They talked, laughed, kissed, fought, made up, drank, and danced. Oh, they danced.

Those two complete strangers will always have London.

Always.

— — — — —

Footnotes:

(1): If I could gloss over the first date and go straight into the second one, that’d be ideal because I hate, like DESPISE (2), uncomfortable conversations. My friend, Jose, can attest to this. I want to crawl under a bridge and die when I see other people have uncomfortable conversations that I’m not even part of. I go so far as diving under the covers, walking away, or changing the channel when I see characters on TV having uncomfortable moments. It’s the worst. I can’t handle it(3). It makes my skin crawl.

(2): I could write an entire article about why I despise first dates so much. Ultimately, though, it comes down to intentions. Like why are we both here? Do you want to date to see if this could turn into a relationship? Are you bored and just looking for someone to hang out with? Hook up with? WHAT’S GOING ON?! I know why I’m here, so if you could give me a 30-second elevator pitch on what you’re looking for, that’d be aces.

(3): Before you think I’m crazy, it’s something I’m working on. If you read my last post, making myself uncomfortable is one of my resolutions this year. That should be interesting.

(4): For real, it was by accident. I’m definitely one of those people who when I’m over it, I’m real over it. It might take time, but I never want to make the same mistake twice. To keep with the theme of this post, as Taylor Swift says, “People like you always want back the love you pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye.”

(5): See what I did there??

(6): For those who don’t get this joke, “Free Bird” is basically the longest song in human history. Like un-Godly long.