understanding u
part ii
Last night, I finally summoned the courage to confront and share my feelings with you. I called you after not talking to you for a few days, and I told you most of the things I wrote in that email I didn’t send you. I was never going to share it with you, but I felt bad for ghosting you and leaving you blindsighted. I also thought it would be better for me to confront my feelings because they are valid and important and deserve to be told.
I asked what you were doing this evening, and you said you were free for a call. When I called you after work, you said you were driving to Ballarat. I’ve never heard of the city before, but you said it’s a city an hour’s drive away from Melbourne. You started telling me about your new programme in Qatar and how you’ve been struggling to find the right placement within the programme. Your visions were clear, and you were not one to compromise.
When you were done, I changed the subject to why I hadn’t replied to you for the past few days and started explaining why. Everything from how I was confused when you said things and held my hand to how I felt jealous when you started telling me about Jennifer and your ex.
I don’t think you were that surprised to hear this. It turns out you’ve been confused about the way you feel about me since way back when I thought we were just good friends. You said you were confused because we got along so well, and you weren’t sure what the difference was between having a close friendship with a girl and having romantic feelings towards her.
You said you sometimes imagined us being in a relationship, a long-distance relationship to be exact. You could imagine it being stable and comfortable since we started our friendship while living in different countries, ever since getting to know each other at a friend's birthday party a year and a half ago in Canberra. But it wasn’t just when we were far apart. While you were visiting me in Seoul, you could tell me anything and everything and the three weeks felt like a dopamine rush to you.
To resolve your confusion, you asked me all these questions about what I look for in relationships, what I think about long-distance relationships, and what kind of family I want for myself in the future. And this, in turn, got me confused because that was how the seed of imagination got planted in my head. I started to imagine having a long-distance relationship — me in London with you in Qatar.
However, your conclusion at the end of the confusion was that we are just very good friends. The two reasons for it were the fact that you could comfortably share things with me and that we never had sex. To tell whether you like me as a close friend or as a potential romantic partner, you had to compare what you have with me to your past relationship with your ex because she is the only person you for sure had romantic feelings towards.
When you were dating your ex, you were extremely avoidant — my words, not yours, because I don’t think you know you have avoidant tendencies. “My relationship with my ex was all about white lies, not texting her every day and hiding away from conversations,” you told me. On the other hand, when you were with me, you could talk about anything and everything without avoiding or lying. That’s why you thought, ‘romantic relationships are about one person being anxious and the other avoidant, chasing and running away from one another. If I am comfortable enough to share everything with her, then I must only like her as a friend.’
Then, the next thing you could think of that differentiates a friend and a partner was having sex. You said, “Because you seemed like a door that wouldn’t open, so I never even dared to knock.” That was why you never tried anything sexual when we were both asleep, and that made you think that you must not see me in a romantic or sexual way. “Then why did you hold my hand when I was asleep?” I asked. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I did that. I was asleep,” you answered.
“Now what?” you asked. “I really don’t know,” I answered. You said it’s my decision to make and you will match my pace like always. “If you need some space for a while, then I can give you that, and if you want to go back to being friends, then I can text you every day like I always do,” you suggested. You wanted a conclusion from this conversation and wanted to be friends again. I wanted to be on the call for as long as we could because I was about to make a conclusion of and from this friendship. I answered, “Yeah, I think it would be better if you could wait for me to get back to you when I’m ready. Now, can we talk about something fun? Say something silly.” That was a lie, because I was never going to text you again.
A passerby approached you in your car and asked what you were doing because you’d been in your parked car for the past hour, not going anywhere. You answered, “Oh, no, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. I was just calling a friend while waiting for someone.” The friend you were calling was me, and that someone you were waiting for was your ex. You had texted her earlier that week, and she told you she couldn’t meet up. You drove up to Ballarat, where she goes to uni. You got there, texted her you were there, and waited for a reply from her while on a call with me, confessing my growing confusion and feelings for you.
Your conversation with that stranger hit me with a feeling of déjà vu. No, it wasn’t a déjà vu because it was a short summary of the past summer we spent together. “You know what? I’m getting kind of sleepy. I couldn’t get enough sleep last night while watching a sitcom. Gotta go to bed,” I lied again, trying not to sound too hurt. I didn’t watch a single episode of any sitcom the night before and I wasn’t really sleepy. “Stop watching your stupid sitcoms and sleep tight,” you said. “You too,” and I ended the call. What I felt after the call was a relief because, finally, there was clarity. I finally understood what was going on in your head, although they were stupid and immature. And being stupid is not a crime. Heck, I even do stupid things to people I love all the time.
I did feel a tad bit like a mouse in an experiment, an experiment of yours trying to figure yourself out while not being able to get over your ex for the past two years. At the same time, I felt bad for you because you struggle to find and maintain meaningful relationships in your life, whether it be romantic or platonic. I still wish you all the best, whether you ever overcome the phantom ex syndrome and meet someone new or get back with your ex.
On a positive note, I also learned a lot about myself during the summer. Now I know there are people out there who I can constantly yap with, ranging from the lightest, dirtiest jokes to the most serious, deepest discussions on life and philosophy. It’s even better if I can stop being a people pleaser for a moment and enjoy the silence I share with them. I’m certainly going to miss our Saturday virtual running sessions and the chaos of the summer I graduated from uni. I'm also very certain that I am moving on from you and growing out of this dopamine-charged summer.
