A Life Full of Maybes

It’s funny.

I started out writing a post about how people are never who they say they are or who they think they are and while I was thinking of clear cut examples, I realized something — maybe  it all boils down to me.

I would describe myself as a friendly, caring, sarcastic girl. My friends would say that I’m funny and strange. My family would say I’m moody and closed-off.

Maybe I’m not who I think I am.

My relationships with the opposite sex end fairly soon after they start, if you can call them relationships in the first place.

Take him for example.

We met on a Thursday night. I had been dancing, singing, living the dream really all night with my roommates and then he came along.

He was cute, outgoing and looking to have a great time. I renewed my crush on him every time I saw him, a crush since sophomore year, and reiterated the same thought to my roommate every time we saw him, “Man, he’s cute, do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

That night I danced with him, with a little help from my roommate who steered him my way. But, hey, I still danced with him. It wasn’t until that weekend that something started between us. There was the friendship request on Facebook, exchanging of phone numbers and then text messages of funny things that had happened.

In the two weeks before the semester ended we went to dinner, watched movies, talked, wished each other luck with finals and papers, went dancing and were together, in such an easy way that we weren’t “officially” together, but it didn’t matter.

He would hold my hand or put his arm around me when we were out together. He introduced me to his roommates, to his neighbors, to his friends. When I wasn’t with him people asked me where he was. It was a nice feeling. It was a new feeling.

Winter break was longer than usual that year. But I got through it with gchat, text messaging and making plans to go skiing when we’re back at school. I even spent most of my New Years on the phone with him and his best friends. I didn’t care. I was happy doing just that. I couldn’t wait to go back.

Even though we weren’t talking as much when we were back at school, I pushed that aside and was grateful for whenever we would get together, for when we would talk. A feeling was nagging me that something wasn’t the same, but I ignored it. I didn’t care.

This is the guy I danced with. He’s the same guy that practically became our fifth roommate. What could change?

Then things progressively started getting worse and worse. Less talking, more time spent with the guys, less with me. It was a Thursday night when I realized it was over.

He wasn’t dancing with me, but other people. My presence was ignored and instead of handling it like a big girl, I broke down. What I kept denying, I was now seeing with my own eyes.

We had changed. We wanted different things. He wanted to have a good time but I needed something more.  I was devastated. I thought that this was it. Not it as in marriage, but it as in a relationship, as in a boyfriend, as in finally something serious happening in my life — not just another passing fancy.

But, reflecting on it now, it’s what happens every time I meet someone new. I revel in how smart, witty and fantastic they are, until, a few days, weeks, months pass and I’m in the same situation again — alone

Maybe they aren’t who I think they are.

As I was reading my current journal from beginning until about ¾ in, I realized that my life is the same, give or take a few people.

Maybe, I know who I am but have a hard time admitting it.

Maybe I realize that I’m making the same choices with men and my friends and family. And, maybe,  as I try to balance my life, I’m realizing just how much I’m not changing; how the person I believe I am isn’t the same person that everyone else knows.

Deep down inside you know that you have some not-so-great attributes, but sometimes certain things are easier to broadcast than others, like your love for animals vs. your inability to speak to people when you’re angry.

I don’t know where to even begin. I guess I’ve achieved the first step — acceptance.

So where to go from here?

I’m not sure exactly. But, for the first time in my life, I’m going to give it a real try. A real chance to change the girl that I think I am into being that girl.

As far as him, what I feared the most of course happened. I wanted us to stay friends, to still talk, laugh, have a good time. The last time I talked to him was in March and it hurts every time I think about it. I thought that graduating and moving 3,000 some miles away would make me get over him, but it hasn’t.

I miss him and his dumb sayings and his smile and his enthusiasm. I wish I could have changed how I felt, that I hadn’t wanted a relationship, but I can’t and I couldn’t then. I knew what I wanted, but it wasn’t good timing, maybe he wasn’t the right person.

I don’t regret him — I only miss him.

-Aida