Still, our differences have had taken some getting used to. This seeming to be the one who desires rather than the one who is desired. Seeming to be the one to extend the goodnight kiss beyond sweet dreams and into let me hold you. The one who thinks in the middle of it, my god, you are handsome. The one who sometimes whispers, thank you, I'm so lucky. The one who, though smaller, afterwards makes up the outside part of the spoon.
I used to think that falling in love was something that just happened to us. My younger self likened it to getting hit by a magnificent force – like say, a school bus – something that was beyond our control and dependent on the stars. But what I'm beginning to understand is that love is an action we take. It is a decision we make to put in the effort to know someone, to bother to understand someone, while simultaneously letting that someone into our own life.
It's a feeling like no other when you want to know someone so quickly and so exhaustively and so urgently that you wish you could do it via osmosis. You want to give of yourself and be given to, freely and equally. Because all there really is at the core of any relationship is what you offer up and what you get back.
Being the highly individualistic people that we are, most of us move at our own speed. One evening before falling asleep, I was asking Guillaume about his favourite childhood memory, what his parents were like, the different countries he’d visited, and so on, when he said something very strange. “Stop trying to figure me out,” he sighed. Surprised by his request, which I took as an unforgivable affront to my honour, I wanted to scream. But my voice was too quiet, it didn’t leave my head.
That was the moment our relationship stalled. It became apparent that the sharing was no longer mutual, and our differences began bubbling to the surface. Someone (Guillaume) at some point revealed himself or herself (himself, really) to be a withholder, and the rejection stung (owwwww).
People – even the wrong ones, or rather, especially the wrong ones – come into our lives to teach us the lessons we can’t learn on our own. And it's not our place to kick up a fuss about it. We just have to sit down, listen, nod occasionally, let their words seep into our pores, and then get the hell out before everything bursts into flames. And often it's only in hindsight that you realize people put up walls around themselves perhaps because they are terrified of being known. (Or perhaps they simply wish to keep you out cuz you disrupt their sleep and irritate them to no end.)
I hope I don't just speak for myself when I say this, but I'd like to believe we held a mirror up to each other and saw ourselves and the world in a more dimensional way that enhanced our understanding of the meaning of life. (Deep stuff...) Our character defects – such as my inability to manage my emotions and impulses, and his blatant disregard for and avoidance of his own emotions – became alarmingly clear.
Then came the test, an opportunity to face my demons and overcome them for personal growth, which I dodged and subsequently flunked. I succumbed to my feelings of anger, hurt, and sadness, by going down the cowardice path and opting for short-term relief. The hardest but right thing to do was reach towards him, the very person who erected a barrier between us, and ask for more understanding, acceptance, and appreciation. Asking and listening is a craft that takes precise cultivation, effort, and some trial and error because of the variances in our wiring. But when you’re with someone you truly love, it’s worth taking the time to figure out. As long as you lovebirds share similar values, being with someone vastly different from your own person can be a very eye-opening and nourishing experience.
The best policy is to never leave someone for someone else. Only end relationships because they have stopped fulfilling their purpose, not because you think someone else seems like a better fit. News to no one: nobody is a better fit. That oasis in the distance? A mirage, my friend. But like every valuable lesson I have ever learnt, I had to live it to learn it. Side note: I’m quite certain I did something horrible in a past life, like drown bunnies just for laughs. Or am I just really fucking stubborn?
This narrative of mucking something up on my first attempt is a recurring theme I have grown used to after years of testing boundaries, pushing buttons, playing with fire, and walking along the edge. Sometimes, I get another chance to make it right. Other times, I don’t. Life is a big experiment. Isn’t it funny? No it’s not. But you’re a scientist, goddamnit, Guillaume. You know this.
So, there. This is what the end looks like. And that’s all right because happiness comes from staring your mistakes dead in the eye and owning them. Happiness comes from knowing that it’s beautiful and worthwhile to take that leap of faith anyway. Happiness comes from trying to be brave, to always choose the potential for growth over the fear of getting hurt. Happiness comes from realizing that you're strong enough to survive it, strong enough to change from it. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t – the outcome is irrelevant. What matters is your belief that even as a quirky entity with major design flaws, you are still someone who deserves everything under the sun. This is how you keep the love alive – with or without a boyfriend. Once you embrace exactly who you are and figure out what you want from this life, you ignite a fire within you that no one can put out.
It takes a certain kind of audacity to believe in happiness, to believe in love, to believe that you are special. This is no small feat for intelligent people in particular. If you’re not someone who can bop along while foolishly metabolizing the world’s superficial jingles and then regurgitate them in a signature brand of empty cheer ("Let go and let God," "c'est la vie," "everything happens for a reason!"), you'll know this is not an easy thing to buy into. It is not a modest decision to prioritise happiness and ask for love. Quite the opposite, it is bold and greedy. And it is embarrassing to try and fail. And I give props to anyone who tries and fails. And then tries and then fails. Again. Over and over.
