I anxiously log onto my profile. My time is finally here! I bid a last parting snarl to my ever looming ‘single’ status. My mind dwells from my profile for a second and I ponder: Am I too hasty? But, this feels right. He must be the one. We have so much in common. Is everyone going to think were moving too fast? To hell with what they think, I love him. Yes, I’m totally in love with him. It just feels right. This means it must be right. No, why am I even doubting myself? This is right! My focus draws back to my profile. I change my status. I am now officially in ‘a relationship.’ This is so exciting. I can’t wait for this journey to begin...
You see, after many years of reading about it, seeing it on television (I totally blame Grease for my warped expectations with love!) and I’ll even confess of daydreaming about it, I finally came across my first relationship. It started out much like many of those I fantasized about... It came unexpectedly. Spontaneity was very important to me. I never wanted to pursue my first love. I wanted it to come to me at the right time. And this time was around December. We met at a Christmas party. His confidence immediately caught my attention. After randomly talking I discovered we were from the same town. ‘Big deal’ you might think. But knowing how small and unknown this minute town was, you would’ve also been surprised to meet any other person from there. Not even to mention another gay chap. Pretty soon the flirting started and continued thru the evening. I played a little hard to get and he willingly humored it. I was smitten for his charm. We kept in touch after the party and started dating. After only a few dates we were both completely gaga about each other. I remember one evening in particular, after having dinner in Brooklyn he insisted on opening the car door before getting in himself. I was completely in awe of this unknown display of small-town-gentleman-like behavior. I knew at once that this man was destined for me. Needles to say, that evening after countless of hours of candlelit kissing, I asked him if he would do me the honor of being my boyfriend. Yes, I know, we small town boys are romantic like that! The next morning I couldn’t wait to finally change my status on Facebook to, ‘In a relationship.’
Finally it was here! All those hours of fantasizing about my first love had paid off. I remember those December holidays being wonderful. Total bliss. The summer heat, holidays and my new hunky boyfriend. Now when I was planning my first familiarity with love I had always imagined myself to being cool, calm and collected when it happens. This was not the case. At all! What was really happening was what I’d like to call, ‘newbie overload syndrome.’ I will describe this foreign term now. This phrase takes place when a newbie (what I call people who are new to dating), like myself, is overwhelmed with immense amounts of ecstasy that is generated from love. This complete overload of endorphins causes delirium and makes rational thinking only a mere notion. This irrational thoughts mixed with a naive love-struck teenager and a dash of summer heat results, disaster! But why care? I was in love. After declaring our undying love we moved in together, spent every waking second with each other and even introduced our parents to one and other. This happened over a period of three months. All the while rarely giving any attention to ourselves, our passions or our friends. Our love became suffocating. But who cared? We were in love!
It wasn’t long before the ‘love high’ subsided. The crash to reality was a hard blow. His insecurities troubled me more each day. His bad habits aggravated me. And I frequently cursed at him for leaving his shoes all over our living room floor. I soon realized that things might have moved too fast. I didn’t recognize the guy I was dating and could barely recognize myself. Although I loved him very much, I knew that we were very different. But still, the fighter in me wouldn’t give up and I would make this relationship work and prove both to myself and all those who doubted us wrong. This was a mistake. My relationship then became a chore, an occupation that I disliked.
Soon our once happy relationship became hostile. I became a person that took pleasure of pointing out all of his faults. I would jump at every occasion to show him that he’s not good enough for me and that I deserved better. Fighting became part of our daily routine. I broke up with him almost on a weekly basis threatening to leave. I vaguely remember uttering the words ‘hate’ a few times. It tore him apart. Afterwards the guilt came. I resented myself for hurting such an amazing, caring person. I would then beg him for forgiveness and then promise to be better. Although he forgave me, it never got better. For some reason we both clung to a destructive relationship, hoping to be better. But things had to change...
My first relationship was nothing like I fantasized. Nowadays, with my Facebook status to no avail, bragging being ‘single’ again, I fondly look back at my first relationship. It was a cold reminder of reality.
Although it wasn’t all filled with heartache, I still feel guilty. Not only because of all the things said, but because of not being more patient and allowing myself to enjoy the moments. There are many things I would change about my first encounter with love but like a good friend reminded me after we broke up, “If there is one good thing that came from this, it is that you’ve learned a great amount. And if you didn’t, then you really are an idiot!”