New York • 07.09.2021
KEIR
An ill-fated attempt to re-enact a beloved memory years later, returning to a place that once felt like home, only to find it now feels uncannily off.– Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
A month before our breakup, he asked me what a long-term partner entailed. “What does a forever person look like?”
He questioned. “What traits must they possess for you to know that this is the person you want for the rest of your life?”
It was a gloomy weekend in Hudson. Unexpected thunderstorms and flash flooding took away much of the sunshine we had hoped for. We spent most of the days indoors under a creaky old cabin, breathing in damp air. Raindrops splattered loudly onto the windowsills, contrasting the deafening silence between us. Deep in our thoughts, we were scared to say much. The situation was far too delicate for any careless exchange, and neither of us could afford to break this glass-like love we’ve safeguarded for the last two and a half years.
I saw the confusion and the turmoil storming in his mind. Most of his questions weren’t directed towards me but rather an indication of an existential crisis that brought him to his knees. As he desperately spiralled into the unknown, the love in me wanted to swoop in with consolation and kiss away his apprehension. But I knew better than to give hope where none should be. What he needed wasn’t a temporary cure-all but rather tangible lifelines to help navigate this unfathomable belligerence. So, instead, I sat across from him in the armchair, improvising answers to my best abilities. I always thought I had my way with words, but today, all the eloquence escaped me.
“What really is love?” He pondered. “Did we fall in love, or did we simply find salvation in each other?” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
Despair loomed over me as I listened to the uncertainty tumble out of his mouth – a twisted train of thought so deeply influenced by all the hurt he had experienced. All of the trauma I cannot take away but desperately wished otherwise. The silence hung across our heads like violent storms and weighed on my chest like a gentle suffocation – a feeling so familiar I couldn’t tell it apart from a loving embrace.
His world was falling apart, and he was going down with it. I heard it in his breaking voice and saw it in his worried eyes – there was no talking him off the ledge. The problem was evidently much bigger than me and our relationship. And although he denied all conclusions, it was clear the decision he treaded towards. No matter how many liferafts I threw into the crashing waves, he was determined to drown. So, instead, I chewed on my lips and swallowed my words. There seemed to be no convincing him that love was the reason we stayed.
At night, we held each other in the cold like a movie – the heater was broken, and upstate New York turned out much colder than we anticipated. Yet each and every night, I fought the urge to fall asleep. I knew that love was soon leaving. So, I did all that I could to savour the last bits of normalcy: I ran my fingers through his brown hair, I stared deeply into his eyes, and I listened to his heartbeat, memorising the rhythm of his breathing as he fell asleep. I preserved him like the last shallow breaths of air before a deep dive, knowing full well that my desperation was futile; the air would escape me as soon as I hit the water.
That long weekend, I ran on twelve hours of sleep combined; delusional and anxious was simply an understatement.
A few days after we returned to the city, I finally found the words and frantically started writing in my hotel room of one.
“I’ve thought about our conversation a little more, and I think I have the answer to your question. I think a long-term partner is someone who pushes me out of my comfort zone and challenges me gently. It’s someone who makes me want to get up in the mornings and power through all the challenges life entails. Not only is that person a lover and a best friend, but he is also a teacher. I can count on him to validate me yet hold me accountable. He inspires me to keep learning and growing – to always be the best version of myself. And to me, you are that.
While I don’t know if you are my future, I know that you are my present. I am in love with the way you think and the way you go about the world. And I would like to keep exploring the wonders of life with you and hold your hand when things get tough. Truthfully, I can’t guarantee how far we’ll go, but I’m not worried. I’m more concerned with our happiness in the present. Instead of deciphering what qualities make a partner worth the long-term investment, I’m just going one step at a time. Because the truth is no one really knows what love is and what makes ‘love’ love. (My parents have been married for 35 years, and I don’t think they’ve fully figured it out yet.)
I know love is scary for you. I understand your story and the dynamics of your childhood, and I empathise deeply with your pain. I know that when life gets overwhelming, you withdraw and disappear as a coping mechanism. Sure, it’s a lot easier to drop everything and self-soothe in distractions, but I want to remind you that a relationship is a partnership. I can patiently work through the obstacles with you only if you grant me access. You must be willing to experience these uncertainties with me instead of seeking answers on your own.
We’ve recently taken some big steps in our relationship, and I know it’s terrifying. Loving someone can make us vulnerable, sometimes so much that we purposely inflate problems and incompatibilities to protect ourselves from disappointment. We convince ourselves that it won’t work, so why try? Sustaining a relationship is not easy, and caring for another person when we barely have the bandwidth to care for ourselves adds another layer of complexity. But all the problems we’ve discussed aren’t problems we can’t solve together.
While I don’t know the best course of action moving forward. I trust that everything will work itself out. We’ve come so far without knowing the answers to everything. So, let’s not stress and go one step at a time. I love you so much, and I know you love me too.”
To my best abilities, I spun a pretty narrative to dampen the chaos. After a few days apart, we eventually came together and spent the remaining days in New York as planned. But this conversation marked the beginning of a crumbling relationship. Each and every morning, we’d wake up and go through the motions empty. We tried our best to recreate heartfelt memories, but truthfully, our hearts were broken. Hand in hand, we went about our itinerary as if nothing had happened. Yet our minds were elsewhere, and our gazes were laced with remorse. Deep down, we both knew the end was coming.
At night, we’d spend hours talking, clinging on to words, seeking refuge. But despite our best efforts, we didn’t find salvation. Instead, we seemed to tread further and further away from a tangible solution. With tears welled up in our eyes, we looked at each other in defeat. We were so afraid to let go, but we also couldn't find the strength to go forward. Eventually, our weary hearts agreed to take some time apart until a final decision could be made with a clear mind. Reluctantly, I asked him to go home, and he asked for some time apart. New York ironically became where we started and ended our romance; we truly came full circle in the city we supposedly loved most.
xx