It happened very slowly. Somehow over the weeks and months of carefree sex I went ahead and developed feelings for someone I hadn’t intended to. This guy caught me so hard on the rebound from a previous relationship that I had basically bounced into his arms. These feelings I developed were the same kind of feelings that, in the wake of another detonated relationship, had left me stranded on an island of emotional suck. If I had a figurative gun on said figurative island I would’ve figuratively put myself out of my very real misery.
The wake of my breakup included a lot of tears and very few showers, the latter strategically fashioned to keep away any self-respecting males. I was a train wreck, but I wanted to be a train wreck in private, not a piece of pulverized meat for the vultures to try and jam their dicks into. In this case I managed to find solace in the unexpected, and months after my relationship ended, my rebound relationship became a legitimate one.
How the fuck did this happen? Is this normal or healthy or possible? Possible, certainly. The rest I don’t know. But the key, to be honest, was honesty. I had nothing to lose by being completely up front with this new person in my life. In fact, it was lack of honesty that had obliterated my previous relationship(s), so I figured why not lay all the crazy cards on the table? I had assumed being honest would make this guy leave me alone, when in reality it made us undeniably close. I had nothing to hide from him. He knew I was heartbroken. He knew I didn’t want, nor could handle, another relationship. But he didn’t want one either. He just thought I was cool and found transforming my bitch face into a smiley face a rewarding feat.
I tried to push him away when shit started getting real. I already didn’t want a relationship, so if I could remind him how he didn’t want it either, all the better. When we met, being emotionally vulnerable wasn’t on my docket, and feeling responsible for someone else’s emotions was far beyond my grasp or interest. Yet somewhere along the line of not caring came the immense freedom that brutal honesty affords us, and that, in itself, is inherent vulnerability. The not caring manifested in ways like "forgetting" to shave my legs for six months, a new personal record and something he was surprisingly cool with. It took him a solid eight months to work up the courage to discuss my lack of deodorant use, which rather than take offense to, I found sweet that he had dealt with for so long. Other not caring included not giving a flying fuck what either of us did on social media. If you’re in a relationship, try it. It’s like amazing clouds of endless cake heaven.
We never fight outside of which sushi place to order from. We're both easy going, and each bring up things that bother us when necessary. It's so simple it seems stupid. I can’t credit our success with anything other than taking it day-by-day, by honoring what our relationship is, but more importantly, what it is not, and admitting that our carefree foray could end at any time. It’s freeing to treat a relationship outside the confines of “IF THIS DOESN’T LAST FOREVER WE ARE SHITTY FAILURES UNDESERVING OF LOVE.” It’s the most drama-free, easy relationship I’ve ever had and extremely unexpected when you figure where we started from. Considering the shit storm of a love life I’ve had in the past, I wonder how the fuck I ended up in a relationship this stable. It’s as if we’re honest with and respect each other. Super weird.
I assume that most rebound relationships are doomed to fail. Using other people as personal bandages for your own broken heart is a shitty thing to do, and burying yourself in flirting and fuckery rather than deal with your own pain isn’t good for anything, sex parts aside. So forget using humans as heart Band Aids and turn to alcohol like a normal adult. (Just kidding. Use weed obviously.)
My final take away is this: Talking about your ex on first dates is a no-no of epic proportions. However, if you happen to meet someone and are still hung up on someone else, be up front about it. Let them know your past relationship is over, you’re just not necessarily over it. Chances are they’ll leave you alone to grieve, figure yourself out, eat cake, whatever, which is what you obviously fucking need. But maybe they’ll keep you company while you put yourself back together, just be honest and don’t promise anything. And as in my case, there’s a slim chance they might actually stick around.
The wake of my breakup included a lot of tears and very few showers, the latter strategically fashioned to keep away any self-respecting males. I was a train wreck, but I wanted to be a train wreck in private, not a piece of pulverized meat for the vultures to try and jam their dicks into. In this case I managed to find solace in the unexpected, and months after my relationship ended, my rebound relationship became a legitimate one.
How the fuck did this happen? Is this normal or healthy or possible? Possible, certainly. The rest I don’t know. But the key, to be honest, was honesty. I had nothing to lose by being completely up front with this new person in my life. In fact, it was lack of honesty that had obliterated my previous relationship(s), so I figured why not lay all the crazy cards on the table? I had assumed being honest would make this guy leave me alone, when in reality it made us undeniably close. I had nothing to hide from him. He knew I was heartbroken. He knew I didn’t want, nor could handle, another relationship. But he didn’t want one either. He just thought I was cool and found transforming my bitch face into a smiley face a rewarding feat.
I tried to push him away when shit started getting real. I already didn’t want a relationship, so if I could remind him how he didn’t want it either, all the better. When we met, being emotionally vulnerable wasn’t on my docket, and feeling responsible for someone else’s emotions was far beyond my grasp or interest. Yet somewhere along the line of not caring came the immense freedom that brutal honesty affords us, and that, in itself, is inherent vulnerability. The not caring manifested in ways like "forgetting" to shave my legs for six months, a new personal record and something he was surprisingly cool with. It took him a solid eight months to work up the courage to discuss my lack of deodorant use, which rather than take offense to, I found sweet that he had dealt with for so long. Other not caring included not giving a flying fuck what either of us did on social media. If you’re in a relationship, try it. It’s like amazing clouds of endless cake heaven.
We never fight outside of which sushi place to order from. We're both easy going, and each bring up things that bother us when necessary. It's so simple it seems stupid. I can’t credit our success with anything other than taking it day-by-day, by honoring what our relationship is, but more importantly, what it is not, and admitting that our carefree foray could end at any time. It’s freeing to treat a relationship outside the confines of “IF THIS DOESN’T LAST FOREVER WE ARE SHITTY FAILURES UNDESERVING OF LOVE.” It’s the most drama-free, easy relationship I’ve ever had and extremely unexpected when you figure where we started from. Considering the shit storm of a love life I’ve had in the past, I wonder how the fuck I ended up in a relationship this stable. It’s as if we’re honest with and respect each other. Super weird.
I assume that most rebound relationships are doomed to fail. Using other people as personal bandages for your own broken heart is a shitty thing to do, and burying yourself in flirting and fuckery rather than deal with your own pain isn’t good for anything, sex parts aside. So forget using humans as heart Band Aids and turn to alcohol like a normal adult. (Just kidding. Use weed obviously.)
My final take away is this: Talking about your ex on first dates is a no-no of epic proportions. However, if you happen to meet someone and are still hung up on someone else, be up front about it. Let them know your past relationship is over, you’re just not necessarily over it. Chances are they’ll leave you alone to grieve, figure yourself out, eat cake, whatever, which is what you obviously fucking need. But maybe they’ll keep you company while you put yourself back together, just be honest and don’t promise anything. And as in my case, there’s a slim chance they might actually stick around.
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