Just Choose Me
Kumusta Tita,
I’m feeling a great deal of emotions about someone who came into my life and ended things abruptly.
It’s been about 4 months since Wayne and I broke up. In the year I was with him, I fell in love with him and was there for him in his worst moments. He lived two hours away from me, but I would always be there for him in a matter of seconds whenever he asked. I even put myself in harm’s way when Hurricane Idalia blew through Florida. I did all of that for him and it meant nothing. I still feel the need to reach out to him even if I haven’t received a response in two months. I hate that I’ve given so much of myself to him only for him to hurt me in the end.
I’m tired of getting hurt, tired of putting all my energy and effort into people who ultimately treat me like a hole. I’m tired of dating within the gay community. It makes me want to give up on finding love. Why is it so difficult to find someone that wants to pick me and make things work?
Regards,
Empty Cup
Hey EC,
I wish I were treated like a hole most days. I’m sitting in my office wondering why I haven’t been pounded out like dough in over a week. Dry spell, I guess.
First of all, I think you dodged a bullet there. Who would want to be in a long-term relationship with a man named Wayne? That’s literally the most unfuckable name. I can’t shout that in bed and keep a straight face.
I do understand where you’re coming from, EC. I have been in your shoes. Allow me to briefly make this about myself. Not that I need your permission — remember who you’re writing to. In the most serious relationships I’ve been in, the most common factor was me giving so much of myself. I thought that was what love was. I thought that the highest expression of love was self-sacrifice. Television taught me that love was said through these surprising grand gestures and that would be enough. Reality taught me that type of expression was not going to be reciprocated. I never got that from my partners. I expected them to give me the same amount of energy and the same grand gestures that I displayed. That expectation set me up for disappointment.
I placed so much pressure on the little things. Maybe because that’s how I was programmed. It was through my upbringing and my environment that I learned to always strive to do better, and to be more amazing today than I was yesterday. To always exceed in everything I do: academia, friendships, social justice, and romance. I wanted them to do better, to be there for me, to show up for me the way I showed up for them. It’s no wonder why things didn’t work out. And here I am thinking that a bomb-ass pussy would keep them around long enough.
In the months following my break-ups, I went through the motions of depression, risky and meaningless sex, and engaging in dangerous behaviours that would hopefully numb the pain of heartbreak. I also asked myself the exact same question you’re asking me right now, EC. Why doesn’t anyone pick me?
During my moments of sobriety, I was able to take a step back and look at the situation from an objective point of view. If nobody is showing up for me the way I show up for them, then who can I rely on to show up for myself? Why was I giving so much energy to the people who didn’t bother or care about me? Why would I do that for them and not do that for myself?
I know that you’re hurting right now and no amount of “it’s going to be okays” is going to help you. But it really is going to be okay. Corny as it may sound, time heals all wounds. My anal fissures are a prime example of that. When I think of your question or why nobody has picked me, I realize just how ridiculous that loaded question sounds compared to the evidence that is presented in front of me. There are so many people who have chosen me. And those people have stayed around to do the work with me. I think about parents, teachers, old friends, coworkers, and even current fuck buddies. These are the people that willingly chose to interact with me and wanted to work with me to make a certain dynamic function even if it was platonic or professional. There are people who, out of their own accord, really stuck around to put up with my bullshit.
It’s worth noting, EC, that some of these people have come and gone and that sound contrary to my point of them willing to stick around. But that’s how life kind of does things. People do come and go. Maybe it’s because they have taught you all they can and need to teach lessons to other people. Maybe they no longer serve a purpose in your life because you’ve outgrown them. Maybe you just don’t want to be around ugly people anymore. Who knows? What I’m trying to get at is that there is hard evidence that you have been chosen and those who chose you made things work with you.
What you’re looking for, that explosive romance full of fireworks and birdsong shooting out your ass, is also something I yearn for. Believe it or not this cold and soulless Tita also likes some human contact every now and then. And you may feel that you need to hold on to that discontent, that jadedness, that wall for just a little bit longer. You may need to keep your guard up for a while. But that empty feeling is something that you can bring with you in all your relationships because you will soon find out that it gives you perspective.
Just like old friends and old coworkers, that empty feeling can help teach you a lesson. It may give you some insight in what to look for in your future connections. Because just like old friends and old coworkers, that empty feeling will leave because it will no longer serve a purpose. You will feel like you’re safe enough to let go of that emptiness because you’ve learned not to fear it anymore.
Retrospect is a gift not given to everyone. But when we are given that, we learn to cherish that gift and nurture it. We take care of it and hone it. Because I gave so much of myself and held on to that feeling of isolation, it gave me the opportunity to look back and see what wasn’t working for me. I learned that being closed off from all forms of love is not only hopeless, but it’s also a huge boner killer. On the days that I need reminding, I tell myself that if nobody is choosing me, then at least I choose me. I will always be there to show up for myself when others don’t. I can rely on myself to be my own source of love and comfort. A small reaffirmation like this may seem quiet when compared to the campiness that is the grand gestures of television love. But in my experience, silence can feel like the loudest noise.
Mahal kita,
Tita Slut
