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Boys again. (braindump)

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On November 30 I had my first date with a 22-year-old math/CS senior at Berkeley. Monday will be, I expect, the last time that I see him; he’ll be crossing the bridge into San Francisco from Oakland to meet me, for the first time in the almost two months we’ll be dating, so that he can drop off my space heater. Woo.

Not that we’ve actually had the breakup talk. No. While he likes to advertise himself as valuing communication very highly in a relationship, I’ve gathered that his ideal communication style involves his partner being able to read his mind so that he never actually has to say what he thinks or feels. (God I fucking love Scorpio men. What the hell was I thinking?) So the fact that I’ve indicated that I want my space heater back, while expressing no interest in actually spending time with him, seems to be enough “communication” for him about the status of our relationship.

The thing that has infuriated me about him — the same thing I initially found really compelling, naturally — has been his apparent apathy toward me. While there’s something to be said (by assholes, to aspiring assholes) for “playing it cool,” this, I think, has been extreme. And because I experienced my father as indifferent, emotionally unavailable, and unable to express any kind of love or affection toward me, of course I jumped at the chance to get romantically involved with someone who bore all these qualities. In fact, my first thought when we started dating was, “Oh, I bet he just has to warm up to me, and then he’ll totally drop his guard and be this great, affectionate, concerned, loving boyfriend.” Again… was I fucking high or something?

So anyway, the fact that he is letting things go at this — not expressing any disappointment, sadness, or really any emotion at all, not even confusion! — without any discussion is making me even crazier. While I can’t tell whether his indifference is genuine or feigned for the sake of protecting himself, his lack of reaction to this gesture of closure is making me think he really doesn’t give a shit at all. And that feels just plain crappy to me. I mean, I liked this guy a lot (or thought I did). What the hell is wrong with him? Why does he feel nothing for me whatsoever? And if he does feel nothing, why has he continued to string me along and see me for two months? What the fuck?

I don’t even think I want to know the answers at this point. I think it would be too devastating to find out for 100% certain that he really just didn’t care, and didn’t like me all that much, or whatever. I don’t need this kind of bullshit. The real question is why I let things get this far in the first place.

Happily, I seem to have found the answer in the form of a book called Getting the Love You Want, by the psychotherapist Harville Hendrix and his wife, Helen Marie Hunt. A little introduction to Hendrix’s theory of romantic relationships, and why we tend to fall for the people who are best equipped to hurt and disappoint us, is available online. I strongly recommend the book for anyone who has noticed their destructive relationship patterns or is in a particularly painful (but not abusive — that’s a whole other can of worms) committed relationship.

So that’s been distracting, but I look forward to having that ugliness out of my life in a couple of days. Meanwhile I am still dating Luke and Seth, and still questioning what it is I’m trying to get out of those relationships, and what’s reasonable to ask for and expect, given that I’m pretty much dead set on getting the fuck out of this city by the end of the summer.

MFA programs have already begun notifying admitted students, which has created a new kind of stress in my life, exacerbated by my helplessness in the process at this point. The best I can hope for is to find some healthy obsession to dive into for the next two months while I wait for programs to call (or not call). It would be nice if I could actually start writing again…


Posted in dating, relationships Tagged: breakups, dating, harville hendrix, MFA, psychology, relationships

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