Bae and I have broken up again. In theory, forever.
His birthday is in four days and I’m in a quandary about whether or not I’m supposed to acknowledge it… he specifically requested no contact so that he could heal, which I am trying to respect, but like, it’s his birthday….
Obviously I’m going to message him.
In four months, I’ll be on my way back to the States. I cannot wait to get the fuck out of here. It’s going to be insanely stressful to move my entire life, especially back to the States, which is an inconvenient land of paperwork and poverty, but in the end I know it will be worth it. I know that it is what is best for me. I know that I will date new men and get over bae and move on and be fine. I know all of that logically.
But as I told my Abu Dhabi bestie, it is insanely hard to see myself trusting anyone any time soon. Like if someone tells me I’m pretty I’m going to just want to laugh at them. Or more likely, make a face of disgust at how basic they are. The first time someone new tells me they love me, I’m going to run away so far and so fast. Or more likely, stare at them with horror and then blurt, “What the fuck does that mean?” The whole idea of love and relationships seems so ridiculous and naive. It’s all just a bunch of ridiculous hormones and fake chemical fantasies. And at the moment I’m going through some intense withdrawal from those hormones and chemicals and it is so fucking painful. But I’m also so aware that it’s just a chemical thing. Did I ever even truly love him or was it all just an elaborate con-job? What the hell is love, even?
And I want to say that it wasn’t worth it, but I know that’s just the withdrawal talking. I know that once I heal, I will stupidly, excitedly, hopefully jump right back into it all.
Humans are such idiots, we really are.