I just finished watching a movie with same title as this post and… *SPOILER ALERT*
The entire movie is about uncertainty and making the choices that affect the way your life plays out. This middle-aged man is realizing that he’s still gay even though he married his wife nine years ago and had a son that he loves deeply. At the same time his sister fell in love, got engaged, exiled her fiance, and then married him anyway! This movie was a doozy on my emotions tonight as I sit here in the common space of my apartment building, near tears, reflecting on myself and my life.
Love has never been an easy thing. Anyone who has told you otherwise is full of shit. Feel free to let them know I feel this way. Love is ALWAYS about sacrificing and compromising and making choices and WORK. Love is so much fucking work. We get tired. We spend years and years just looking for chances at love. We take those chances at love and 99 out of 100, we fall flat on our faces; we get burned; we get cracked; we fray at the seams. And we all hope that when that 100th time finally comes around, it’s sweet and has been worth all the hurt.
Recently, I’ve experienced a lot of heartache. I guess it could go back to July before we moved away from Germany, but I think that would be unfair to NotBoyfriend. Although he did hurt me, it wasn’t much the same way as recent times. I met Ski-Man (I actually refer to him as this with my friends, ha!) in January and we went on a series of dates up through his birthday in February. He was smart, sweet, and understood things about me without ever asking for an explanation. He made me feel like I could fall in love and be loved again and then he disappeared. Around this same time, I met Silver. And we courted for two months as well, before mutually agreeing to embark and something official. And then he broke up with me two weeks later on Easter. And honestly, that was the one that broke me.
In the movies, there’s always screaming and there are tears and food binges and it all seems very overly dramatic Hollywood. Well in my real life, as a twenty-three year old man, there were tears that surprised me, feelings that scared me, and lots of unnecessary snacking. You know, I cried a lot for a week. And it doesn’t make sense to me to have been so attached to someone after such a short time. Officially, it was only two weeks, but emotionally, we had been growing together for two months. The more I think about it, the more I realize how truly insecure I am. There are some things (surprisingly) that the internet doesn’t know about my life, but regardless, it’s made my life difficult for me to fathom sometimes. I don’t feel like I’m worthy of the love that I’ve been dreaming of finding since I was thirteen. It doesn’t seem possible that someone will find me this way and love all of me. I have a tiny sliver of faith that I’m where I’m supposed to be; that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s hard to trust yourself. Sometimes I truly don’t, but I want so badly to be able to.
When you think about it, it always seems like you’re playing the wrong game. But this faith thing…that’s the fuel of life. We take risks and leaps off ledges daily, hoping to find satisfaction and affirmation in the fall and to stick the landing at the end. Our choices definitely impact what our futures will be, but there’s no telling what will happen. Even the most planned lives will go astray at different points. It’s about the rebound. It pisses me off to stay that I’m still figuring out how to rebound from the last guy I let inside, but it’s reassuring. I’m still very much human which means I still have so much love to give when the time comes.
Insecurities may be able to be positives. That’s a long journey of self-love though and I feel like I’m just getting started…