Tonight I Wanna Cry

For the past couple of months my relationship has defined me. It has been everything to me. It was the lifeboat I clung too after the last few months nearly drowned me, but I just took that lifeboat, the heart that’s been keeping the blood pumping through my body, and I put it on a plane to Holland.

Now, know that as I am writing this, he’s just taking off, so of course you’re getting me more than a little raw, but you’re also getting me in the most honest way possible, because right now I feel these feelings so absolutely they’re consuming me, they really are. They’re drowning me, and yet I also feel them lifting me up.

See, the time I’ve had, no matter how rough, (or how bitter recent events made it), it was love, pure and simple. It was waking up to someone everyday who adored me, and looked at me in a way I never thought anyone even could. It was the way he advocated for me, believed in me, and reminded me that no matter what happens I should never become someone else. It was love. Love for me, and for life, our life, in it’s simplest purest form.

Yet, these few months have also been a ticking clock. Slowly moving, slowly pushing towards today, towards this moment where I’m shaky and vulnerable and just so damn sad and scared and also kind of ready.

I’m ready to pump my own blood again, or I need to be. I’m ready to stop living on a timer, stop putting pressure on minutes and hours as they run through my hands. I’m ready to rejoin the world again, and learn how to live in it without just him. I’m ready to take on the kind of life I wanted post-grad, I’m ready to fight for it, and fight is what I’ll have to do.

After all, this isn’t going to be easy. There’s nothing normal about my situation with him, or with the things that have happened to me in recent months (outside of our relationship), and with all of that combined it’s going to be a real struggle—a fight even- to even get out of bed some days. I mean it certainly has been even with him to help pull me out.

However, I need to be take on this fight. I need to relearn how to be my own gladiator, my own savior, even my own person again, because I used to be so proud of being those things, of being self sufficient and it kills me that right now I’m not.

But the truth is, I’m not.

I’m not self-sufficient, or whole, or even happy. I’m not any of the things I should be, or want to be for him, or with him.

I’m just lost.

But I’m also not.

I’m also right here, and alive and in love, and still holding the heart of a man on a plane who’s gone right now, but hopefully not for always, and I also have a unique chance to get found, to get myself back. To turn pages in a book that I’ve shelved for so long, and find the words that he fell in love with in the first place, to find the character and heart of the girl that he’s holding now as his plane moves farther away.

Because I if didn’t want this for me, Jordy didn’t want it more. He didn’t want the circumstances to put our lives on hold like this. He didn’t want to have to squeeze months into hours, and spend hours dreading months apart. He wanted normal. He wanted our own rooms and jobs and lives, that of course would coincide but never be so convergent, but also never so divergent at the same time. But that’s what we’ve got. That’s our reality. That’s our story, and even as I sit here crying my eyes out, I know I’ll make the best of it.

I know I’ll fight. I’ll fight to pull myself up out of bed, and force myself to reengage in life. I know I’ll hit the ground running and land that post-grad job. I know I’ll figure out this long distance thing. I know I’ll find my friends again, and thank them for their patience and for their support. I know I’ll get back into my old routines and I know I’ll relearn how to be on my own again. But I won’t do any of that right now, and I won’t do any of it tonight.

Because tonight, I just put the love of my life on a plane to Amsterdam. Tonight my heart is breaking a little bit, (okay a lot), and so tonight, I’m just going to cry.

 

Attached in Your 20s: Being Single vs Being Serious

Remember when we were in middle school and it suddenly felt like everyone was coupling up? When suddenly recess became a receptacle for the holding of sweaty 12 year old hands and illicit makeouts on the pavement.

Well, post-grad feels kinda like that. (At least I think so).

It’s like all of a sudden we all went from making out in bars with people whose names we would never know (or care to know) and taking home strangers, to declaring our love on the internet and making things #FacebookOfficial.

Maybe this is our attempt to adult?

(Step One: Find life partner)
(Step Two: Tell everyone???)

Now before anyone gets offended I too have joined the love-zombie army. (His name is Jordy and he takes up most of my instagram lately). However, being the wildly independent-unattached-don’t-need-no-man kind of girl that I am (was?) my membership to the love club is kind of freaking me out.

Here’s why:

  1. Because my boyfriend is dutch and his immigration paperwork is a nightmare and I love him and want to marry him one day but not yet because I’m only 21 and the idea of that is scary as fuck and also I don’t want a green card marriage and neither does he.(I’m guessing that’s just a me problem though)

    SO ANYWAYS

  2. Because I see a future with him, and suddenly what I want in life, and what I picture for myself and my life is starting to include him.

    Now, that’s not saying my plans are beginning to revolve around him, or even my life, but I’m seeing how easily they could start to, and the ease with which I see this terrifies me. Which leads me to….

  3. I am terrified of compromising on what I want/or wanted because I want him (forever).

    I always prided myself on never letting myself revolve around a guy. Ever. Period. The end. I always made my own choices, my own decisions, and if they happened to be amenable for/to him then LUCKY HIM! If not….then Bye Felicia.

    But I’m starting to think more and more that maybe it’s okay to compromise on some things in the name of being happy, because what you want can change. That what you want in life is allowed to change, maybe even supposed to change as you get older/grow/whatever. Because while you do change, as long as you still are a person you like and that your past self would also like and be proud of, don’t beat yourself up for the change (I think?).

    BUT

  4. Isn’t this is the time when you are supposed to get to know you? Like the solo you? Or are those just articles and lists to make the single girls (aka me 8 months ago) feel better?

    I don’t know. A friend told me a little while ago that in the end you just have to do what makes you happy. (Which is a cliche but still true). And truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever find someone that makes me this happy (even with the constant immigration headaches).

    My boyfriend is patient, kind, tolerant of my uniqueness (read: weirdness). He doesn’t mind tickling my feet for a whole movie, puts up with me loving my rabbit more than him (sorry babe), and works harder than anyone I know. He’s gentle, sweet, and sometimes he’s even funny. I could go on and go, but I’ll stop there because you probably get the point.

Honestly, despite these things (these GREAT things about being in a serious relationship) I’ll probably always worry a little that I didn’t sleep with enough people, or sow enough wild oats. I’ll worry that I settled down too soon or met the one to early (assuming things work out, knock on wood) (((I really really really hope they do))).

I know a lot of my friends with seriously-gonna-marry-him SO’s feel the same.I guess the grass is always greener right?

Though, in these moments when I have these doubts about it being “too-soon” “too-limiting” “too-much” for 21, I try to remember what it was before him. Sometimes, it was great. I had a lot of fun. A lot.I kissed a few boys (and a few I shouldn’t have). I did some things I’m not proud of and some I still really am  😉 . I spent time alone. I was selfish and could leave my phone off without someone worrying I was mad at them (my friends know I am not a fan of charging my phone). I focused on my rabbit, and travelled alone.

Honestly, sometimes I miss it all. Sometimes I can tell my friends miss single Hannah too. (Though they definitely don’t miss sad-lonely-broken hearted Hannah, the Hannah that often accompanied fun single Hannah.) However, I wouldn’t trade fun-singledom for my serious relationship. I wouldn’t trade what I have with Jordy for anything in the world.

So all that said, what’s better? Single or Serious?

Idk.

See, both single and serious are scary, and though I wouldn’t trade Jordy for anything, I can’t honestly say that one kind of scary is better or worse than the other. Nor can I say that one status is better  (or worse). I guess all I am saying is that just being 21 is scary.

Being 21 and in a serious relationship is scary because you worry that having an SO prevents you from being the 21 that you are “supposed to be”. However, that isn’t to say being 21 and single is any easier. Like I said before, 21 any which way is hard.

For me personally, it’s scary and it’s hard because I’m terrified I’m missing out. I am fearful that being attached means I will not only miss the growth of my 20s, but also that I will lose the best things about single Hannah. Her ambition, her candour, her creativity, her drive, her wit. Though as far as losing these things goes, I don’t think I have. I think I’ve remained the person I am. I think I’ve finally found someone who lets me be those things, the ones I am most proud of. I think maybe seriously-attached isn’t the personality catalyst  I thought it was.

That isn’t to say it hasn’t and won’t be a struggle to remain a whole person outside of my relationship. Not losing yourself in someone you love that much? I think that’s tough, especially for people our age. But then, maybe your 20s are for getting lost?

No, maybe not in that sense. Regardless, I don’t have any plans to lose myself. I like her too much. I think I’ll keep her, or at least the best parts of her around. After all, isn’t that what your 20s are really for? Finding the best parts of yourself, for discovering those things inside you and learning how not to let them go, single or taken.