Split Sides

Upon Reflection

So what happens now? What's next? What will I do now?

Well, now a new approach must be found. A new romantic philosophy is needed. When my romantic adventure began 12 years ago, I was idealistic and I believed I would find love, success, money, and contentment, all in the near future. Perhaps spurred on by the obliviousness of youth, I went straight ahead to women I had eyes on, naively thinking that romance and intimacy with a woman would fall into place with a little work and some planning, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. I believe I had all the qualities to make a good boyfriend, if not a great partner in life. I firmly believed in them out of innocence and hope, that it would be a matter of time before I achieved them. Or so I thought.

Now, after 12 years, two colleges, multiple crushes, four interests, two near-misses, and two serious heartbreaks later, I find myself back to where I started. I have now gained some experience of romance, but being honest they feel rather light, a bit insufficient. I may be in my mid-20s but I still feel like a juvenile in love. I haven't really had the deeper, more important, more personal levels of romance and intimacy that I'm looking for. I don't think I've gone far enough. I thought I'd be more successful by now, had the beginnings of what seem to be solid achievements. You know, travelling far and wide; having a small but growing income and savings; a house of my own; and a loving, supportive woman beside me who has her arm over my shoulders. That beautiful image that represents "Making It In Life". That mental image I have that I need, and know I need. I desperately want that life, but for some reason it feels beyond my reach. I feel like I haven't really progressed that far in life. I'm living a completely different future from the one I dreamt of as a teenager. I don't know what he'd think, but I know I'm disappointed with myself. Disappointed because I feel stuck in place and I don't know how to get up there to the place of my dreams, whereas so many of my old peers and classmates have advanced to greater heights. I know where I want to be, but I don't know how to get there.

Case in point, I once knew an acquaintance back in my Marketing days who's now married to an American girl, living in Washington State, and taking her on glamorous dates and vacations in Greece or Mexico or whatever place they want. They're so amazing, it's almost picture-perfect. I see them, then I see my place in life. And I'm filled not just with envy, but with guilt and despair. Because that's the kind of life and love I want, but it's not the life I'm living. I'm still here in my room, still living with my mum, in a neighborhood full of people I have nothing in common with, not knowing what I'm good at, without a soul to call my friend, not having a girlfriend and not knowing how to have and keep one, and endlessly searching for opportunities that fit into my skills and talents to grow and thrive and fulfill my ambitions, without success. It eats me up. It gets me a little closer to old age and death. And it terrifies me. It haunts me to no end.

Why am I saying this? Why am I writing all these things? Why am I creating and pressing on wounds that won't stop bleeding and won't heal? Why do I always fight with myself and wrestle with myself, from the smallest choices to the greatest plans? Why do I keep coming back to this? Why do I always get let down in the end? And why does it never stop?

For starters, I write down all my thoughts, suffering, hopes, and faraway dreams, because I have no money for psychiatric sessions and meds since the pandemic, and I feel a modicum sense of relief and release by doing this. I know, this is not enough, I truly need lasting and reliable help. I know that, I'm not in denial over my condition or the urgency to change and improve. I want and need those things too. But over the course of my life I've had to learn, again and again and again, that wishing and wanting something isn't the same as getting it. They're entirely different things. My failed romantic interests alone is proof of that.

And then, I must be honest with myself here, I feel incompetent at life sometimes. I don't know how to hold on to things. I'm always expecting something to go wrong. People come and go through my life like traffic; my life is a revolving door that never stops spinning. That inevitable heartache and disappointment I'm waiting for; I know it's doing something detrimental to me in some way. I hate it but I must live with it and make the most of it. It's a vicious cycle that needs to end, but I haven't yet figured out how to do it. That's why I seem to keep flagellating myself mentally and emotionally.

To put it in simple terms, I don't know how to be a good person. I don't know how to have people who can last in my life for a long time. And I guess in some ways I've come to accept it and live with it. At least I know what to expect. I'm not saying I'm giving up on life and settling down to my place in life. Of course I won't accept this. I will change, I will find a way to succeed and live the life I want. But these four women, and everything else in between, have pushed me to realize this is a world of individualism, where everyone looks after themselves, and there's no escaping it. This is a reality I must adjust accordingly to. Is this wrong? Probably. I accept in some way I could be mistaken in this conclusion. But there's only one alternative, and it's of continued delusion that leads to personal and professional stagnation. And that's unacceptable. I'll change whatever the cost, whatever it takes. It's the only way going forward. For what it's worth, what I have lost in romantic idealism, I have gained in life lessons. Pragmatism is what must govern me for the foreseeable future. I haven't yet known what shape and form my new approach or philosophy would look like, but I have an embryo of an idea in my mind. I can work with that.

In people's eyes I'm just a rest stop, never the destination. So I must do likewise.