“Sarah, if you ever need to have someone to hook-up with in college, or get any tension out with… I get it. I’ll be bitter as fuck, but I get it.”
Having had some weird conversations in the past, this one struck me as particularly odd, discussing the concept of an open relationship in college. I’ve never particularly felt drawn to the option until now, until I begin to grasp the difficult that a long distance high-school-turned-college romance will pose. There will be days where I yearn for physical contact, just to be held, kissed, loved in every sense of the word. And after having spent the past seven months dating him, the past three years with Brian there, around me, hugging me, kissing me, wiping my tears as I cling to him and our hope for the future, I hope I can survive a year apart.
“I’m just trying to do things on my own terms as much as possible.”
There’s something about long distance relationships (LDRs) that just… takes away a sense of control. It eliminates the face-to-face contact, the daily talks, knowing your loved one’s surroundings. And what if they cheat on you? What if they get drunk at a college party or the likes and end up in the bed of someone the next day? I’m not saying that’s not morally reprehensible, I’m just saying that it happens. And that the person isn’t entirely to blame.
“Just… if it happens, let me know sooner rather than later”
The true cruelty of the entire thing is that if you do sleep with someone ,if you do cheat or break their trust, you have to tell them, and subsequently break their heart and perhaps their whole world. You have to eliminate your future with them, or at least their trust for awhile… You have to obliterate the concept that a relationship cannot end unless on their own respective terms. You have to destroy them.
If Brian cheated on me, I’d be a wreck. Even if next year, under this open relationship title, he found someone else, I would be inconsolable, because right now… he’s my world. He’s the only one who knows 100% about me, as much as possible, at all times. We’re attached at the hip. I just hope that, among all else, I can resist the allure of a different guy at college at a party, because out of sight, out of mind often applies when speaking of drunks. I can’t break Brian’s heart. If there’s anything stopping me from sleeping with someone else- and trust me, there are many, many things-, it’s the guilt that I would inevitably feel, and the pain from his pain. We’ve been through a lot together, Brian and I. I never thought it’d go to the point where we’d be in an open relationship come college… but an open relationship is better than no relationship, right? It’ll take even more trust than a long distance one, because then we have to trust each other not to fall in love with the new person.
We’ll see how this whole thing pans out come September… until then, I’ll be stuck in limbo.
Caress me to sleep with your unspoken words,
Those gentle hums that soothe the world
Into believing that good will always win.
Push my hair behind my ear,
Unmask me, wipe my tear,
And above all, make me grin.
Make me believe that love can win.
Restore my faith in not the world, but myself,
Into hoping that I becomes We,
That the years ahead prove treacherous,
But worth it.
Grab my hand and lead me to a station,
Where I can choose where to go,
And to take you with me.
And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past…
Nostalgic for childhood already? Me? Nahhhh
My mom started off my 18th birthday with her by kindly reminding me that she can now kick me out of the house without legal repercussions. Joyous. It’s weird to come to the realization that I’m now essentially a separate entity from my parents. There’s something simultaneously scary and freeing about having to sign paperwork in order for my mom to access any records on me. I can now legally watch porn, smoke cigarettes, buy lottery tickets, and in short, corrupt my life if we’re talking about things from a church perspective. Cool.
In all, I had a fairly uneventful coming of age. I spent the night before at my boyfriends- before all you parents out there reading it gasp, we haven’t done anything and our parents trust us- and we watched Django, which was a surprisingly hilarious movie, and then meandered upstairs for the chiming of the bells. When the clock struck midnight, my boyfriend’s dad’s girlfriend wished me a happy birthday and kissed my cheek, she raised an eyebrow at me and chuckled “So is this now an illegal relationship?!” My boyfriend was unbelievably flustered. It was excellent.
After that, Brian brought me upstairs, dragging me by the hand up to his room. Entering the door, I immediately laid eyes on a box that’s bigger than I am. He sat confidently, arms crossed, and smirked as I opened what would soon become Rajah, my three-foot-long stuffed animal tiger. He is beautiful. And yes the name is from Aladdin. –I almost considered naming him Richard Parker, a nod to Life of Pi, until I decided I wanted a tiger that would protect me rather than run away at first site of land. He handed me a card which brought tears to my eyes… it listed all the memories from the past seven months and I was overcome with the most powerful feeling I’ve ever had for a person in my entire lifetime. It’s like all my love from the past seventeen years swelled into a tsunami of emotion, wiping out any coherent attempt at words, such that I simply kissed him. And that was enough to get my point across.
When I went home… well, not much of note really happened unless conversation over cake interests you.
But alas, I seem to have grown up. Who knew, right?
Here’s to the sandcastles made to destroy,
The snowball battles, the coveted toy,
The stains on t-shirts, the messy cheeks,
The endlessly laughing, the high-pitched shrieks,
The boy versus girl tag, the endless chalk,
The hopscotch, the jumprope, the knock
Knock jokes, the fake horse riding,
The cowboy hat, the swingset sliding
And that annoying cat.
Here’s to childhood, the first golden years
Where you became Midas, turning tears
To evanescent memories, ebullient.
Here’s to what we seek to emulate and scold,
The days we know we once held dear even if they
disappear with each passing year.
Here’s to our past. Let us hope that the future
Holds enough silliness, coloring, bubble-popping
Fun for us to revile in the days to come.
Here’s to the hereafter.
Another childhood awaits.
I’ve never been one to cry
At milk puddled on the linoleum.
I’ve never been one to flinch
At an impending slap.
But with you around I try
To not be as flammable as petroleum,
As volatile as a mob waiting to lynch
The man who stumbled, unsuspecting, into the trap.
Around you, I melt to pieces in a way
That ants melt under a magnifying glass,
Innocent, unnoticed, and eventually, unmoving,
Unlike a popsicle dripping on a hot, summers day,
I’m destroyed at once, like the third class,
Trapped under the decks of the Titanic,
Unable to escape.
Around you, I’m not me.
I’m a shackled version of sanity.
A contorted idea of what you want.
But even then, it’s not enough.
It’s been a long day
And all I want to do is fall into your arms
But for the first time,
I keep wondering,
Will they catch me?
Will you stave off the pain
Of disdain for our struggle
Of a relationship that once
Held more promise
Than an engagement ring?
That’s the thing,
For the first time,
This isn’t worth it.
And I want to sprint
To the times when it was,
When everything was brilliant
And I didn’t feel like bawling at the sound
Of your name.
So, I must ask you,
Will you catch me when I fall?
I’ve fallen once,
But I’m afraid this time I’m falling
In the worst way possible
With no outreached arms.