Wednesday, 26 December 2018

> continue? [y/n]

During my second relationship, I lived in almost constant fear of being dumped.

I wasn't confident in myself. I was, somewhat, assured that I wasn't doing anything wrong... but then again, I hadn't done anything wrong during that relationship either, and I'd been dumped from that. I didn't see how one could be so cruel, doing something premeditated that would be guaranteed to hurt someone else. Being dumped the first time was painful, and the second time nearly destroyed me. I've rarely felt as close to death as I did during those dark days.

But I digress. I felt a lingering doubt in the pit of my stomach that I wasn't what she wanted. I certainly was sexually - her orgasms with me were so powerful I could feel every single second - but she did have a habit of baiting me, trying to get me into an argument with her... and, as we all know, I don't argue well - I acquiesce, or negotiate. Or I just take the hit and hurt. Rather me than her. She said fighting was healthy; I didn't agree.

However, I don't think that was my main reason for the fear. It's more to do with the fact that I didn't feel good enough for her. She was smart, sassy, sexy and seemed, despite being a few years younger than me, to have have an incredible deal more life experience than I had. I had a relatively safe youth, rarely going anywhere on my own and never once going off the rails (Woodcraft camp, in case you are wondering, doesn't count. From what I've heard regarding other Woodcraft districts, our own was practically puritanical! I should've started going to Venturer camp!); by her own admission, she wasn't the world's greatest teenager, but at least she was cool. I may be nice, but I don't think I was ever particularly cool.

So I developed a contingency plan.

It wasn't a very cohesive plan, but it had the bare bones. I would get a job, and then with the money, I'd rent a small flat that I'd live in on my own (in fact, I had a specific block of flats in mind. I can see it from the flat I'm in now!). I'd lose a lot of weight (which I haven't done yet), gain a lot of self-confidence (which I also have yet to do), and then I'd go clubbing in London and invite girls back to my flat, which would be immaculate and inviting. The job I was training for at the time was, in fact, both impressive and required a lot of skill, and I was relying on that to be the main draw.

That way, I reasoned, I would be able to have some degree of indepence, and meet some girls, which would be - as I told myself - a reason to keep going. I would rather, of course, have married my then-girlfriend and gotten a flat with her, but if that went wrong, at least I had a vague trajectory to train on, should I be violently ejected. Of course, I had no actual plan as to how I'd lose weight, or gain any self-confidence since that's a thing I notoriously lack, but it was just a dream, so I didn't dwell on that too much.

Of course, then I was dumped, after which absolutely none of my contingency plan was activated. With the loss of my girlfriend, I lost my job, my security, my sense of purpose, and what little vestiges there were of my self-confidence. My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, I spent the next few weeks in a mess of tears on my bed, ruminating on the one thought I had: I was right about one thing. I wasn't good enough for her.

I'm writing this almost eight years later. A lot has happened since then, although less weight and more self-confidence seem to have managed to elude me. I'm also losing my hair and more of me hurts than it used to. I'm almost afraid to have sex in case it turns out I've lost all the skill I used to have in that department.

But, in the end, I got a flat. And, as it turns out, I got - eventually - a job which wasn't half as cool, but allowed me the money to pay rent and bills. Crucially, though, I didn't need to invite any girls back, because there's already a girl living in the flat with me. And this one... I do feel good enough for.

So, no, my contingency plan didn't work. Eventually, though, I got something better. It took me nine years, and it hasn't been a charmed life at all since then.

But it's getting better.

No comments: