The StoryNow Playing: Evergrey - At Loss for Words
My friends suggested I put my thoughts in writing to help myself heal and move on from this. I think it’s not a bad idea but I don’t know if I’m ready to move on yet. A part of me doesn’t want to move on, still in denial that this ever happened, that I have actually really lost him for good this time. Sometimes I think I’m ready to move on and I’ve accepted it, but when I start thinking about him again my eyes get hot and watery, like they are now. I get all choked up again.
I think I need to try and start this from the beginning, to explain to myself everything that happened and try and figure out why it all went wrong.
Ben and I met on the internet. He hadn’t had a serious relationship for something like 5 years, and I had broken up with Peter a few months earlier. I was entering a phase in my life where I wanted to relish the opportunity to be single, make the most of my single life and the freedom that comes with it. I felt so positive and happy to be out of my relationship with Peter. Probably because towards the end, my realisations about Peter (that he was narcissistic, selfish and possibly didn’t truly love me at all – he only loved the way I adored him so much) left me with not much more than feelings of bitterness. I felt a bit like I had wasted my time with him, giving him so much love and attention, when he didn’t deserve it. Losing my love for him also helped me see how his obsession with Jen was not something I should have ever stood for. A lot of the things he did to me I shouldn’t have stood for. I’m so weak when it comes to love, as long as I get to be with the one I love and be happy, I will take almost anything.
It’s hard to try to remember back to what it felt like to be me, before Peter came along. I was very naïve (still am, but a bit more wary and cynical these days). I wasn’t cool. I would look at other cool people and wonder why they were willing to spend their whole lives chasing that unfulfilling dream. I wasn’t really aware, or part of, all the sinister games that people play with each other. The most manipulative thing I’d ever done to a boyfriend was not talking to him until he apologised to me. Which I guess is childish in itself, and probably reflects how I was raised. While I don’t want to blame my life on how my parents raised me, I do think it’s had a big influence. They gave me anything I wanted, particularly my mum who felt eternally guilty that she wasn’t a good enough mother. If I was ever naughty, 90% of the time I wasn’t punished. I could cry about something and just get my way. Is that why I cry so much still, even when I’m 24? I don’t think so. I can’t cry voluntarily – I just cry out of sheer emotion that rises up and overwhelms me, even if it’s over something little. But I don’t think I ever intentionally, consciously tried to manipulate any of my boyfriends. Did it a lot to my mum but that’s a whole different kettle of fish.
Anyway the moral of the story is, I was pretty dumb and very inexperienced when I entered a relationship with Peter. When I first found him flirting online with another girl, I burst into tears, emailed all my friends to announce that I was breaking up with him, then sobbed in his room for an hour until he returned. I still remember the feeling of shock and repulsiveness that I felt, thinking about how all of that had been going on behind my back, how the magical fantasy that was our love was all fake. He had told the girl that he didn’t see himself staying with me for the long-term. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. But when I confronted him, he came up with a plausible explanation that made everything better again, and he didn’t talk to the girl again (I think… I hope…). So again we went back to being the young, happy, silly couple that we were, never wanting to grow up, simply trusting in one another’s love. Then we had a serious fight, I asked for a few days apart, and he told me he had to go out with Jen to see if she was the real love of his life or not. And again, my world turned upside down. How could he do this to us? How could he have such strong feelings for a girl who was so slutty, so rude and such a bimbo, and had treated him so badly in the past? I asked him to choose between us and he chose her. Everything I thought I knew and trusted about love had been a lie.
Anyway to cut a long story short, Jen stood him up even though he called her about 20 times that night. He came crawling back to me. And being the stupid girl that I am, I took him back without hesitation into my loving arms, so happy and relieved that he had come back to me. I knew the reason why he looked so upset that night wasn’t because he was scared of losing me – he was upset because the obsession of his life, Jen, had rejected him. I knew it but I refused to think about it. I was just happy and we were in love again and that was all that mattered. I didn’t care that I was his second choice.
We dated for almost 2 years before we broke up. It was a good relationship overall, but had some rocky parts as all relationships do. I was never 100% good enough for him. He loved me, but I could have been smarter, cooler, more hip – more Aussie. I tried the whole time though, especially at the start of the relationship, I really tried to be that cool girl that he always wanted to be with – someone like Jen. I even streaked my hair blond because he wanted a blond girlfriend so much. He’d even admitted to me at the start that he never planned to get involved with an Asian girl again. What was I thinking? Why did I not care about all these things, and why did I keep trying to please him? It took me almost 2 years to realise what kind of person he really was. Selfish, superficial, shallow, irresponsible, only cared about himself and his own happiness. Probably never really loved me. Narcissists only love people who lavish them with attention. I was so good at doing that. It was all I was good for really. I’m not beautiful, I’m not outgoing, I’m not overly intelligent, I’m not overly witty or funny, I’m not especially good at anything really.
So what was the best way to mend my damaged self-esteem and feel empowered and strong again? Go out and enjoy the single life. Be independent, meet guys, have fun, stay out of serious relationships for a while, just see how many guys I could potentially have. Learn to enjoy being on my own and realising that I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy. Prove to myself that I was cool enough to be sought after, not a second-rate reject girlfriend. I wanted to be better.
I didn’t set out to intentionally hurt anyone. I dated a couple of guys but never led anyone on – if I didn’t like him, I didn’t call him back and only responded to his messages with a vague, non-committed, lukewarm response. Isn’t that the kindest way to go? But then I met Jesse. God just thinking about that name again is painful. All I see is the look of shock and fear that was on Ben’s face when I first mentioned Jesse, that night at his family’s beach house when we were both completely high off MDMA, and I was feeling so close to him that I had to tell him everything. Even through that haze I’ll never forget the look on his face, it looked like sheer fear. His whole face and body went still, waiting to hear what I would say next. But then he was ok with it, coz Jesse and I hadn’t really done anything. But I never wanted to make Ben feel that horrible feeling again. It was gut wrenching to see it. Again I’m choking up. After that night I made him feel a million times worse than how he felt that night.
Anyway I had a bit of an obsession with Jesse. For the first time I understood why Peter felt helpless under the spell that Jen had over him. Nick explained to me that a lot of guys meet a girl at some point in their lives whom they obsess over – put her up on a pedestal. I knew Jesse wasn’t that great but in my mind he was hot, sexy, everything I felt attracted to. It was a completely irrational attraction that drove me crazy for a very short period of time. It was while I still had some residual feelings for Jesse, and resentment against him for not wanting me enough, that I started seeing Ben.
I still remember our first few conversations on the internet. He seemed really sweet. We spoke on the phone for an hour that first time. He had a lot of interesting things to say, but I thought he sounded like a long-time pot smoker and I assumed we wouldn’t really go any further than that. But then we had our first date. He was shy, a bit serious, a bit worried that every place we went to was closed and he wasn’t showing me a good time. I felt very relaxed that night, at first I was sitting in his car thinking that I didn’t care if we saw each other again or not – I suspected I didn’t want to be involved with someone who’d spent his whole life smoking weed. It was just not the kind of guy I saw myself with. But then the alcohol kicked in and I started really having a good time, and I think he came out of his shell a bit. And I realised that he was actually quite funny, and super sweet, so nice. He bought me a pack of Panadol even though it was a rip-off. He probably spent quite a lot on me that night.
By the end of the night I was gone. Having naturally low tolerance to alcohol, I was already drunk. And with alcohol comes an urge to have sex. And suddenly he looked really really good, he wasn’t the guy that I had gone out on a date with, he was just a guy that I could sleep with. I still cringe when I think about how shamelessly I threw myself on him, almost begging for sex. It was disgusting behaviour. Not the way that any girl should ever act. Something I would never do if I had some sobriety in me. Probably a bit of Jen in me came out that night. And he said no, and I thought there was something wrong with me, or that he was a virgin – after all, what guy says no to sex? But I’ve come to realise now that he’s just a gentleman when it comes to ladies. He treated me like a lady. He respects women. It’s very rare to find a man like that. Even though he dressed like the youngest guy I’ve ever dated, he was the first boyfriend that I’ve ever been able to call a man. A real man.
Anyway from that night, things only got better. Every date we had was better than the last. I started to look at him with amazement and real appreciation. He was smart, quicker than he looks. Funny, had the best sense of humour, always made me laugh. Very assertive, he doesn’t let anyone do anything to him that he’s not ok with. And best of all, the best boyfriend. He showered me with attention, made me feel special, brought presents for me when I least expected it. He went out of his way for me. But on top of all that, the quality that made me realise he was a keeper – he was a man. He was responsible, kept to his word, never broke a promise, and despite his constant surly attitude, he was good to other people. Especially people in less advantaged positions, like elderly people or animals. He was so good, in every way. Even just a few weeks into the relationship I was starting to wonder if he was too good for me. I never felt like I was as good a person as he was. But I didn’t worry about it. I was selfish. Why worry, as long as I’m happy?
It was a beautiful, short time in my life. Every day I spent with him was a perfect day. I never knew life could be so perfect.
There are some memories that I hope I’ll never forget, as long as I’m alive:- the feeling of utmost happiness and peace that I felt whenever I opened my front door and laid eyes on him, standing on the other side of the glass entryway to the building, looking at me. How he always wanted to hold my hand when we were out and about, and didn’t believe that couples should ever split the bill. How he always bought too much food when he was hungry while shopping, even though we both knew he’d never finish it all. How he complained about everything, everything I liked was boring, but if I got upset he would try to make me feel better and enjoy what we were doing. How he wrote little love-notes to me, in all sorts of places so they would lift my spirits when I found them later. How he spent so much time in Europe thinking about me, missing me, buying things for me, writing me beautiful loving postcards, even though I was just constantly ringing him and whinging about how lonely/upset I was – disturbing him on his holiday. How he did things to make my life better, but refused to admit that he was doing it – like asking his mum to specially invite me to Xmas lunch, and making sure it was his mum who invited me, so that I wouldn’t feel like I was just tagging along. How he always tried so hard to make me happy and make me laugh. How he would sometimes have moments of doubt, and send me emails that revealed so much depth to him that made me realise how much I loved the person that he was, and his faults and doubts and uncertainties only made him more precious and human to me. How despite what I did to him later, he still wanted to spend a lot of time with me, do as many things together as possible because he believed that that’s what couples should do. How he has the strongest sense of commitment, loyalty, longevity in a relationship – he hated to hear me talk about the possibility of us breaking up or not being together one day. How he often teased me endlessly to the point where I got fed up and sulky, and then he would be worried, and ask me what was wrong and that I had to tell him if he was ever out of line. How he would say that all he ever wanted was to make me happy, see me smile. How he used to SMS me every morning before work to get my day off to a good start, and because he missed me I guess, and was always thinking about me. How intense and passionate and out of this world the sex was, especially before he went to Europe, like nothing I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. How he tried to stop being jealous for my sake, even though he was already wary and scarred from his first relationship, but he still tried to give me some freedom because it meant so much to me. How he enjoyed showing me how to really cook, with pots and pans banging everywhere, chopping up ingredients in record time and whipping up a meal in 30 mins instead of 2 hours. How every time he volunteered to cook, it was nearly always the same dish – chicken and almond stir-fry noodles. How he was always really pleased on the odd occasion when I rang him instead of him ringing me, saying that he liked it because it felt nice to know that I was thinking of him. How he always made me feel loved, and never wanted to see me cry.
And then he went to Europe for 2 months, and it was the beginning of the end.
The stupid thing is, I was the one who pushed him to go. He had already told me when we first met that he was planning to go at some point, but I was the one who pushed him to buy the tickets. But when I realised that he was going and we’d only been together for 3 months, I started to realise I’d made a mistake. It was too soon. Every couple needs to be together for a good few months to establish routine and commitment in their relationship before they part for a long period of time. It was at the peak of our getting-to-know-each-other phase that he left. It felt so wrong. He knew I was upset and spent his final week with me at his holiday house, just the 2 of us. We spent our last night together at my place, being as close to one another as we could possibly be. After I left his house on the day of his flight, I couldn’t stop crying. I drove to the shops and sat in my car in the carpark, crying for half an hour listening to Velvet Revolver and feeling sorry for myself. I spend a lot of my life feeling sorry for myself. I think that’s how all my problems start. Maybe it’s because of insecurity, I mean it probably is, but maybe it’s because I don’t have a lot of self-esteem or self-pride that I have a tendency to dwell on negative things. So Ben going away for 2 months felt like the end of my life. How stupid that seems now, now that he is gone forever from my life because I couldn’t handle him being gone for 2 months. How does that make sense? Like Ben always says, what goes around comes around.
The first few weeks were hard. I was crying at night almost everyday. He really made a big effort to try to help me not feel so lonely, chatting to me on his friend’s computer, putting aside time to talk to me on the phone. I know now that he missed me as much as I missed him. But I didn’t know how deal with my emotions. I know a part of me was resentful, I felt abandoned. I always dreamed of going to Europe with my partner – why couldn’t he wait for me? Why did he have to leave me all alone for 2 months? I wish I hadn’t been so selfish. I’ve been to other countries and seen things that he’s never seen before, and yet I hated the fact that he was in Europe without me. I don’t know why my mind thinks these things. I don’t know why I can’t just grow up. I don’t know anything about myself anymore.
Eventually the only way I could think of to feel good about myself again was to hang out with another guy. I never thought I would cheat on him. I wasn’t thinking at all, really. I didn’t think about what would end up happening. All I felt like doing was finding some company, not being lonely. Maybe there was more to it than that, but I’ve analysed everything to death and I still don’t have a firm answer. I told Luke straight away that I was in a relationship. He said ok, and was surprised I had still contacted him, but we could still be friends. I was happy with that. I knew what I was doing was strange but I didn’t care. He seemed nice, outgoing, fun. We hung out a few times. A part of me didn’t care about Ben while I was doing it. I think I almost felt like he deserved it, to make me feel so abandoned. But it was all in my head. I hadn’t been abandoned, I just let myself feel that way because I wasn’t used to my boyfriend not putting me first. That’s what it was all about maybe – I wanted to be put first. Luke put me first. But how stupid am I? He didn’t even know me. He wasn’t putting me first, he was just interested in me. Ben put me first in all the things that he did for me while he was in Europe. How stupid am I? How selfish am I to not just be happy that Ben was finally living his dream? I would go back in time and change so much if I could. I can’t believe myself.
The more I write, the more realistic my perspective becomes. The more mind-boggling this whole situation seems. I kept looking at it through my own muddled emotional point of view, wondering why Ben can’t see how much I love him and regret getting so close to Luke. But now I can see more clearly what I did to him. All the doubts that drove me to Luke – Ben answered every one of them. When I was lonely, he spent hours on the phone with me. When I felt unloved, he wrote me loving postcards. When I didn’t feel special to him anymore, he was buying me so many trinkets to keep me happy. No wonder he is fed up. If I had done so much for someone, and that person went and cheated on me, and then begged me to stay, and then kept acting grouchy when I wasn’t showing them enough attention, I would also think it was completely unfair. I would think, “Can’t you see how much work I’ve put into this relationship, and all you’ve given me is heartbreak in return? How dare you act jealous / sulky / moody towards me? After everything I’ve gone and done for you, sacrificed for you, all you can think about is your own selfish needs?” Of course I understand now. I can see it all so clearly now. It helps to write this story out. When I write this story I have to cover all the details, and when I confront all the details that’s when I really realise what a horrible mistake I have made. And how badly I misjudged Ben. Luke said he was sleeping around behind my back and I was naïve not to realise it. My friends said that Ben owed me forgiveness after a certain period of time. None of that is true. Ben was loyal to me. And Ben owes me nothing – I am the one who owes him so much. Or at least, I would owe him everything if we were still together. Now that we’re not together I guess we don’t owe each other anything. He doesn’t need to forgive me anymore, and I don’t need to make it up to him anymore. For a while I still harboured delusions of trying to make it up to him even though he doesn’t want me – I thought I would leave a flower at his doorstep everyday for a week after we broke up, with little toys or chocolates in the shapes of Kombis and other things he would like. I thought I would send him an anonymous rose every Valentine’s Day and every birthday he had, so that he’d know he was still loved. But there’s no point is there? He doesn’t want any of these things. We’re not together anymore, for good now. He wants me to leave him alone and let him move on with his life. That’s the best gift I can give him now. If only he can give me Mat’s bloody phone number or bank details!
So what is left? I know I didn’t handle the breakup well. For the first few days every moment felt like agony. I thought I would die from the pain of losing him and knowing how hurt and disappointed he was. A part of me wanted to die. Felt like there was nothing of value left in this life – I’m a failure in just about everything I have done. I haven’t been a good enough friend. I’ve been a shockingly lousy girlfriend. I don’t treat my parents well at all. I haven’t finished my studies. I don’t know what my career will be. I’m not close to anyone who actually loves me. I cheated on the guy who treated me the best. I feel like there is no love left in my life. I think insecure girls like myself thrive on love. We need it, or crave it, because it makes us feel whole and complete. Maybe it completes the inadequate relationship I have with my parents, which will never be a good relationship. Maybe it’s because every girl looks for her father in her husband, and Ben reminded me a bit of my father, and my dad and I have never really had a relationship and we probably never will, and Ben filled that deep yearning in me. This sounds horrible. If Ben read any of this before we started dating, he would have run a million miles away. I wonder if all women function like this, but we just learn to hide our problems well, to lull guys into a false sense of security? If these are my innate characteristics, can I ever have a normal, healthy relationship with someone? I can hear a voice in the back of my head saying yes, anything’s possible. There’s another voice screaming yes, but only with Ben, who is the only one who can ever make me so happy. I’m so confused. I’m such a mixed up person. Peter’s mother said that, but I thought, what would she know? She doesn’t know me. But maybe she knew me better than I knew myself.
It doesn’t sound like I’m ready for a relationship at all. I think that was part of the reason why I cheated, because I felt like I wasn’t ready for a relationship when things started getting serious between us, and a part of me still wanted to live out the single life. (Along the lines of, “how can Ben ask me to commit to a relationship, and then run off and leave me to do his own thing for 2 months?”) If only I had stopped and taken stock of my life and realised that Ben was the best thing that ever happened to me. Maybe there would have been a chance then, that we could have had a good life together. I wish I had never met him. We’d both be better off. I wish none of this had ever happened. It should have stopped with Jesse. I should have just decided enough was enough, and stayed single for a year or two until I was ready for a relationship, instead of rushing into one. If Ben had come along a few years later things might have been so different.
Sometimes I feel ok now. Sometimes I feel like I’m just starting to accept the fact that I will never have him again. Sometimes I start to feel positive about my life again, thinking about all the things I can do which I couldn’t do before, like have a male housemate and work hard without having to hear him complaining about how McKesson’s taking advantage of me all the time, and also potentially meet a guy one day who actually enjoys some of the things that I enjoy. But then other times, like now, all I feel is sad. I can justify it a million times over in all sorts of different ways, but at the end of the day, all I want is him. He was all I ever wanted, even before I ever met him, but I took him for granted. Used and abused him. I deserve exactly what has happened, if not worse. I can’t let myself forget that.
But I have 2 choices now – I can sink into the despair that I feel creeping up on me every so often, yearning for the one that I still love so much. Or otherwise I’ll just have to keep living, move on, get my act together and stay strong and positive and learn from all this, become a better person, make the most of what I still have and am still capable of achieving. He was the first real man that I’ve ever been with. If I don’t want this whole experience to go to waste, I guess all that’s left for me now is to learn to become a real woman.