We were gathering clothes to do laundry this weekend. "I don't want to wear your old boyfriend's shirt," my new boyfriend said when he picked up a shirt in his pile. Actually, he is not a new boyfriend. He has been my boyfriend for 4 years, about 1/6 of my life so far, and in that small pie slice of years he has become the center of the universe. At some point he stopped being just some guy I was seeing to someone with whom I could reasonable revolve my plans around. From a crush to someone who I know what eats for dinner every night. He is my home. How long does it take for that to happen? Some people get married after knowing each other less than a year. That seems really silly. It seemed silly back then to think that he would become my main person, love, best friend, and family, kind of, because of how silly it seemed in the first place. Like when I was drunk and crying on the sidewalk because I was in love with him.
I wouldn't want to wear his ex's shirt either. Although it wasn't his shirt, which I pointed out, because he never wore it. He gave it to me and I cut and sewed it down to a perfect size. It's stupid, because even though it has his band name on it, I still want to be able to wear it freely since it has a huge glow in the dark spider web (and fits perfectly) and not have it relate it to the ex at all, which is kind of impossible. Anyway, maybe it's because I'm kind of immature or young or something, but it is so incredibly weird to think of your significant other with another significant other. Why do I unreasonably kind of hate everyone Mark has dated in the past? I guess it's not too weird, since they could almost be considered "competition" or "threatening". I can't imagine what they would do together; I can't imagine how he could possibly have loved anyone besides me. I wonder if he feels like that about me. They must have been really stupid together, done really stupid gross things. I wonder what facets of his personality were drawn out.
If I was still with the ex on the t-shirt, I would probably be more depressed and more wussy, because he wasn't into being reckless or wild, really, and he didn't drink. When I don't drink, I don't do many bold things. I'd probably be really frustrated, because the sex was bad. I'd also be frustrated because he would say stupid annoying things like, "That is the definition of irony!" and be completely wrong (true story). Of course now that relationship sounds completely horrible. I think I mistook his stupidity for some kind of purity. Hindsight is 20/20, har har. At least I never got to the point where he became like a partner instead of just a boyfriend, or to a point where it would have not been completely ridiculous to change any of my life plans for him. But I still felt like I was in love at the time. And, love is blind, har har. I am pretty much filled with nothing but contempt for everyone I've dated in the past.
Now I don't ever picture breaking up with Mark, but if we did, I would not have contempt for him. I'm sure it's not just the lens I'm seeing it through, but it's because this is a different relationship than any other one I experienced. It's the only real adult relationship I've ever had. Even though when we are alone together we mostly act like retarded children. I feel secure and loved and held by the universe. And love can be terrifying sometimes. I never was afraid of death before, and now I kind of am.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment