something about wants

For a long time, being asked about what I wanted in a relationship was something that only ever came up in a moment of tension. It tended to be on the tail-end of a relationship, where we were realizing that things were not working out for whatever reason, with it usually being (but not always) my fault. When these moments happened later in my life, they tended to be less dramatic. There was a level of maturity there, an understanding that this was not working out and that separating was likely the most straightforward solution. When it's mutual, it seems that it's a lot easier, but I'm not sure that's the proper word. A lot more frictionless, maybe. Smoother. Some people are just not compatible, and they go their separate ways. Some of these former relationships go on to become friends, some even "lifetime" friends. But it's always an odd situation to find oneself in where the amicable, obvious solution is separation, but one or both of the couple are reluctant to take the leap.

Like I said, it could be easier than alternate situations, but it's not fun. It's not an ideal place to be. In this story, I am leaving out a lot of other factors and my own shortcomings that resulted in a relationship failing, but this was a positive that I ultimately took from it at one point once I had to take the time to resolve other lingering issues. 

Over the last few years, this question came up every now and again: what is it that I wanted? Yes, it was the result of a tumultuous period in a relationship that had seemed to have stagnated, but it was at first not presented as an ultimatum. Later, in my personal life and in the literal clinical sense (that is, with a counselor) I was being asked this again. And then, something peculiar happened: I froze up. I realized that I didn't really have an answer off the cuff. Before things had come to a head with a past relationship and with my (at the time) untreated and unresolved mental health issues, it was hard to feel particularly optimistic about the future, about any future, and I selfishly let that be known. I hadn't recognized it at the time but should have in hindsight. I was always easy for a dark joke about the end of the world, my death, or even suicide, but those were like a blanket for me, absolving me from ever having to ask or answer those questions, the real questions. I was just coasting, dragging myself and others along. 

At some point, towards the end of what I dubbed my "dark days" (essentially the peak of my alcoholism almost nine years ago and now retroactively extended to my years going untreated for mental illness), I jotted down in a notebook somewhere a very brief template of how humans feel and where they are in life: suffering, surviving, contented, and thriving. It was sort of like a subjective and feelings-based Maslow's Hierarchy. When I was asked that in that time, I was mentally only at the level of "surviving." There wasn't any actual danger to me or my environment (besides, perhaps, myself) and things were decent in a literal sense, but I wasn't great. And as such, I had an incredibly myopic sense of myself and any future I could consider. 

What did I want for myself? Who fucking cares, would likely be my answer just a few years ago. But again, that removed the necessity of me actually thinking about it and providing an answer. But now, having seen how that was affecting my relationships, friendships, and health, and actually recognizing that I wanted to improve things, all things, I took a step back and actually thought about it. 

Anyone who knows me would probably laugh at what I am about to say, but that's the point of writing all of this, isn't it? Stream of consciousness and reflection. Not all of it will be rational or realistic. Almost none of it went how I would have pictured, partially due to growing up and experiences that forced maturity, and likewise partially skewed by things that I had let go unattended.

I'll be the first to admit and accept that I needed therapy and medication to no longer consider that my manic-depressive episodes were all there were to life. I had another chance now. I could be the best I could be. And could hope to achieve the best for me and those around me. 

But when I was still in middle and high school and first started liking girls beyond having "secret crushes" and brief conversations with friends about feelings (but not real conversations about girls and feelings, because that wasn't a cool thing to do, we were pre-teen boys in the 2000s, remember), I always thought that it would be cool to find "the one" and create a fulfilling life, career, and relationship together. I didn't need a fairytale, but a solid partnership seemed just as rewarding. 

When I was younger, I let my unaddressed issues run rampant and skew many of my perceptions of what was normal in relationships. I let FOMO rule much of my twenties and perhaps stayed in unhealthy relationships for too long, while also not dedicating nearly enough of myself to people who did truly deserve better. I know that much now. I was always worried about making the wrong choices and replaced them with exponentially worse choices instead. Eventually, I knew that by promising too much to too many, I would only drown (there's that phrase again), but that was what I brought on upon myself and others. 

Anyway, I was lucky, having the parents and family that I did, for showing me that that was possible (not needing to aim for a fairytale romance, but creating something that was equally as magical, even if it lacked horses and suits of armor, or fast cars and a Bond-girl that would trade espionage and the Crown Jewels for a ring). These same people would also go on to later tell me not to rush into anything too soon or commit too hard and too fast, which also left some lasting damage on how I viewed the world, but that's for another contemplation. There were some people close to me who likewise showed me everything in a relationship that I should do anything to avoid. These situations next to one another absolutely left me confused for quite some time. Not sure I've quite reconciled all of it yet, either. 

But here I was, finally addressing it with a matured perspective and a want to actually determine an answer that was healthy and honest to me. After all I have been through and saw and experienced, I thought that that "fairytale" was still an answer. It wasn't painted in the whimsical light above that I described, but it didn't need to be. I knew it was possible. Since those middle school conversations and far-cry ambitions, I saw it happen numerous times with many different types of people I was close to or even just knew casually. Some people could or had found their "one," and even if it doesn't last and that term betrays its own definition, well, damn, those people were still giving it their best shot. I was being treated now. I had a healthy regimen to follow for my mental health and through the softer skills, I was much more in-tune with how I treated people, but more importantly, being aware of how people felt after interacting with me. That had gone neglected for a long time, even if it wasn't on purpose. It was time for me to create a fairytale worthwhile with someone else who wanted it. Life wasn't something to grin and bear anymore. Getting help and receiving actual treatment fixed that. 

Of course, things aren't always so simple. In the events that had led up to this new meditation and reason for homing in on this answer, my partner at the time did contemplation of their own and came out on a completely different road from mine. It's no criticism towards them. Just like how I started this page, some people can recognize that they're on a different path and are simply incompatible. At the time, that's all I recognized this as. Different people. Humorously enough, that's also where the incompatibly arose: other people. I'm reminded of that Star Trek quote: it is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not weakness, that is life. Though I had committed many, many mistakes over the years and had hindered the relationship, I still kind of feel that that quote is relevant towards the result of the whole ordeal. Two people can want the happiest result, but it's not always there. At the end of the day, someone can choose to just move on, for any or without a reason. And that's "alright." It's not easy, but it's a possibility. All you can do is ask if there's a reason or any means to remedy the situation and if so, what can you do. But no one is obligated to stay, no matter how right or wrong each person feels, or whatever corrective measures are taken. I know that now. The lack of a "rational" answer and objective conclusion in this thought exercise would have bothered me a decade ago. I'm aware enough now to know that it's absolutely more of an art than a science. It's what we feel. 

In this one example of my own experiences, an ex and I had been trying to mend our relationship and recognize what was important to one another. They wanted an open relationship and a different living situation. I wanted to build towards that fabled relationship with my "one," whatever that would look like. When we dug into our responses, I was told that it wasn't just about seeing other people, but then that exact phrase was on top of our literal couple's therapy checklist of "unnegotiable needs and wants." I suppose that was a bit confusing to me then, though it's not relevant to me now. I truly did do my best to approach it with an open mind and even read books about opening up relationships. I read it thoughtfully, appreciated the people involved, but still held absolutely zero interest in going through with it in my own reality. No judgment about it. Just not for me. 

At a certain point, it was starting to lean towards feeling as if I was being pressured or forced into it. That I was being an objectively difficult or bad person for not embracing it. I don't think that was the intention, but I know I was probably visibly frustrated with that feeling. Oh boy do I think there was some derision and anger directed towards me from that sequence, but what can you do? Square peg and round hole, I guess. 

Either way, we had determined and provided our answers. They wanted polyamory, I didn't. We accepted one another. The only problem was that we finally had this conversation after many years together. We were at the end. It was unpleasant, but it was a necessary experience. 

I am still very fortunate. Regardless of how it went or the aftermath of it all coming undone, I learned a very valuable lesson. If I wanted to find my person and work towards that, I knew I had to communicate it. Before committing to any relationship, it would be a necessary and early conversation. The greatest takeaway for me was that it simply wasn't enough to just coast by on vibes, no matter how enamoring it could be in the early stages of a relationship. No matter how interesting or comfortable or intriguing or amazing someone could be when you first meet them, if you're going to be together in any capacity, you should know these things about them and about yourself. Both for yourself and for them. It's alright if you don't have an answer yet, or if you're figuring it out yourself, or even if your answer changes. But both you and your partner should recognize that and do what it takes to stay on the same page, even if it means eventually going in different directions. For everyone's sake. 

It might be a good thing for you to figure out, before you drag someone along towards an inorganic future that may not actually exist. That also goes for you and respecting your own goals and feelings. In blunt terms: don't be led on by anyone by filling in their answer in your own head, and sure as fuck, don't lead anyone on. Open and honest communication is the only way to avoid this, and even then, it's not a sure thing. It's difficult when hurt feelings are involved. People can be dishonest. I know I could have been. I don't mean this to end on a sour note, so I won't let it. This all was a beautiful realization and lesson for me and I know firsthand the positive results it can eventually create, even if it takes a whole lot of tears to get there. 

Even if it takes time, or even seems like may never come to fruition, at least you know what you want and how to protect it.