In the beginning there was light.
There always is. You are happy, you are nervous (in a good way), you can’t imagine ever fighting. Perhaps you even settle for being someone you’re not. Someone lighter, happier, more carefree. Perhaps you even believe this person to be you. Perhaps you know you can’t be broken and messed up in this. But you still are. And the illusion does help. You heal somewhat.
But eventually reality takes its toll.
Everyday life begins. You move in together. You do all the things society tells you to do. The laundry gets mixed up, dishes and meal planning must be done.
The fighting begins. The mundane things that never should have mattered starts to matter. The inequality in the relationship starts to become clear to you. Small things. The feeling that your feelings and wants never mattered as much as the other persons. Or that the person just didn’t care enough to make it matter. Or perhaps he did but if it didn’t show, isn’t it the same thing?
Love is a fickle little thing. And it can disappear. I don’t know if I didn’t work hard enough at it. A part of me believes it goes south the second you start arguing about laundry and shit like that. I don’t want that life. I thought I needed that life – the order, the normality – but I can’t live like that. I don’t want polite family dinners, polite conversations and polite pecks on the cheek. Maybe I don’t believe love should be hard work. I don’t believe love should be boring. Perhaps forever isn’t for everybody. Perhaps people like me must settle for a while.
I want chaos, madness and passion. I want someone who can’t keep his hands of me. Who looks at me like there is no one else in the world that matters – who maybe even believes no one else in the world matters. I want someone who fights back when I’m unreasonable and not just writes me off as hysterical and mad. I want someone who sees past my brokenness and sees me enough to ask me what’s really wrong – that recognizes the hysteria as anxiety and panic even when I oyster up and can’t talk about it.
That might be a lot to ask. I don’t know if that’s something you leave behind in the head over heels Romeo & Juliet/Twilight teen romances. Perhaps I left myself there 16 years ago. Perhaps I want something that’s long lost to me.
But then I’d rather have nothing. Settling isn’t in my nature. Being alone is and I’m rather looking forward to that to be honest. To have a home full of books, dresses, Funko Pops and nerdy shit and no one to judge me for it. And in the end I think this will make me More Happy than Not…