I’m probably not quite lucky when it comes to finding a romantic partner. I’ve had long-term serious relationships with resentful endings. When I was in high school, I was heartbroken, confused and angry because the boy I loved broke up with me without telling the reason. A year later, it was disclosed to me that he died of brain cancer shortly after he left. Three years later I met my college sweetheart. His messed up life led him into making the wrong choices, he cheated on me until he was forced to marry the girl he impregnated. Two years came by, I had a very thoughtful and meaningful relationship with an American guy. Unfortunately, when his career went haywire, it affected his confidence in our relationship. He kept from me his problems. I desperately tried to save our relationship, but my efforts were not enough. And due to our distance, he decided to end our love story.
When I Finally Went Into Pieces
I was single for another two years. Then I met a tall, dark-haired Irish man with hazel eyes. Despite his intimidating demeanor, we clicked right away and became really close friends. We fell in love. In spite of our busy careers, we managed to keep our romantic relationship healthy. It is by far the happiest relationship I’ve had. Five months after our engagement he started acting strangely. His fear and confusion seemed to be splitting off from reality. Until one night, I rushed to his apartment because he called me crying, asking for help. I found him with his eyes swelling, I can see his struggle not to cry. I found empty bottles of antidepressants and doctor’s prescriptions on the table. I suddenly felt tensed and confused. With his both hands clutching his head, he burst down in tears. He looked up at me and said I am diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. I am tough by nature, but his anxious appearance that night feebled me. It wasn’t because I was frightened of him, but it was because I feared to lose him. He told me how much he fears that his brain disorder will only make me suffer if we insist on keeping our relationship. I contacted his sisters who are doctors and they arrived from Ireland the following week. We bid our goodbyes at the airport, he kissed me for the last time and whispered “I love you so much.” Despite his brain disorder, I knew in my heart that his kiss and his last words were genuine. I watched the plane disappear in the clouds, but not a single tear fell from my eyes.
When I No Longer Know What Romance Is
Since then, my frame of mind about romantic relationships changed. The despair of a lost love for the 4th time and the reasons how each ended affected me so much. I became desirous of affection and desperate to flee from all the bad memories. I started looking for distractions with several expats I call my discreet playmates. Even though, I get along pretty well with each of them, I had set the no-commitment rule for myself. I go hitting the bars binge drinking. Sex and more sex on and after the parties and that’s about it. I am unconcerned that I’m just bearing the brunt of my own frustrations. My deep wounds had escalated into a major distrust issue to a point that my heart became extremely guarded.
I won’t deny that I sometimes miss being in a serious relationship, but I don’t feel that I am ready for it yet. Will my heart ever be ready again? Maybe. I am not closing my doors and this transition is a choice that is currently working for me for reasons I find less complicated.