In this world you are bound to meet different kinds of people from different backgrounds and different upbringings and different struggles, so on and so forth. That's the inevitable thing; the part which you have control over is whether or not you embrace those different kinds of people.
I have this weird problem that is generally not seen as preferable with men: I'm soft. I am far more empathetic and caring and such than which would be beneficial to me. I want to solve people's problems, I want to make everyone happy, and I want to be needed.
That's not to say that I've necessarily always been that way. I had this girlfriend once, questionably older than me, but still technically passable, plus I liked the idea of dating an older girl so in my head it worked out. Yes, she was over the internet; yes, even for being 13 at the time, I took time to verify what I actually was getting into (voice calls, video calls, all that stuff before AI was really capable of overcoming all those tests). Real girl, with some real problems. I mean, never mind the fact that she, a hypersexual person, might I add, was dating an eighth grader at the ripe age of 17 with not too much time before she was off to college, but there was just a lot of things that she needed that I simply couldn't provide for the simple fact that I've never had the relationship we did with anyone else prior. I said things that I probably shouldn't have said, I wasn't emotionally intelligent enough to be available in the ways I needed to be. It was a major learning experience for me, and I think that's when I really realized the effect that I could have on people; how easy it is to make a person sad, to even make them cry, and conversely, how to make a person truly happy.
That relationship had ended a long time ago; sometime before my Sophomore year, and if it puts this into perspective at all, she's married now to a Navy SEAL or something. Yeah, the age gap and the different maturity levels and her needs as opposed to what I could actually give her began to actually click for me, so I figured I couldn't keep that up. I was able to have a conversation with her not too long ago and it seems as though she's in a better place and, like myself, much more mature since we dated.
While she and I were dating, I was real close friends with this different girl (now boy, I will be referring to them to them through they/them pronouns for the sake of neutrality), and they were also going through a lot of problems; arguably much more serious mental issues, and they leaned on me a lot for support. And, like I said, I learned a lot about emotional intelligence from my relationship, so I was really able to support them in a more proper manner by that point, and, you know, being that we were good friends, it worked out better. As it turned out, they actually became quite into me, and sometime after me and the first broke up, they and I considered ourselves an item.
I have to say, just as an aside, I cannot even begin to see what these people saw in me that made me anything of a viable partner. Especially when I was just starting out in high school, I was a major fat fucking chud with shitty humor and a bad hairstyle. I think my only redeeming quality is that I have a somewhat deep voice, I guess.
When that relationship eventually came to its end - yeah, it was rather short - we still were friendly with each other; we hadn't ended on bad terms - I just thought it'd be better for me to go for people who are closer to me. At some point they wanted to make it known that I was a major reason why they didn't kill themself, and on one hand its a real honor to be someone's lifeline, but at the same time it's a little overwhelming the fact that I'm the one who kept this person alive. But I didn't think much of that second bit; I was proud of myself and positive effect that I had on them.
It wouldn't be the last time someone would tell me something like that.
Later on after the breakup when I was with my most recent ex, they attempted suicide again, but lived. Before they went ahead I got the typical "Thanks for being a good friend" thing, and didn't hear from them after that, which I honestly didn't think much of because I thought that they just wanted to distance themself from a phase and move on from what they used to be, which was understandable; I was of no use to him anymore, so I felt, so I didn't feel in the right to fight for the friendship.
I guess I have this issue: sometimes I put myself into a box - I serve specific people specific purposes. Not that I get assigned them, necessarily, but based on how the friendship is established I might embed in my head that I am supposed to be some way towards that person, be it a fun addition to the group, the wise one (which I am surprisingly often), the therapist, or the emotional support animal. As I've said before, I like to be the one who makes people happy, who fixes things, all that good stuff, so those latter three things that I could be to a person I tend to take particular pride in.
Anywho, they text me back at some point talking about how they were recovering from their attempted suicide, and even though I was with my last girlfriend, I just wanted to do whatever I could for them so that I could continue being a person who kinda holds them up. However, they kept a lot to themself and didn't really feel much the need to interact with me on a regular basis, which was fine; I had a girlfriend already who needed me in ways that technically I was never supposed to really needed for.
See, the third one was my longest lasting relationship; ended just a couple weeks ago, actually. We met in my sophomore year after I had pledged to myself not to get into a relationship too fast, because that kinda thing never worked out great. But then I meet this girl with flaming hair, a pretty face, a rather fine body, and about as fucked up in her sense of humor as I was, and I immediately knew I was cooked. However, she hung around this one guy who claimed to be her boyfriend at one point, and that pushed me away a bit, but she and I were still close. Eventually I got the clarification that she and the other boy weren't dating and my mind was free to run wild once again. It only took three weeks after meeting her for the first time before we go together.
You know, that relationship was real nice for a minute. Despite the hardships she had to go through, like the death of her parents, the shitty foster system, being nearly raped and all that, I stood by her and put all of my energy into making sure she was as happy as she could be, but even despite all of that, things started to devolve.
See, I didn't want much out of her; she didn't need to do anything extraordinary for me as I was doing for her because she was struggling in ways that I couldn't even begin to imagine. All I wanted was for her to love me the way I loved her, and to be decent and kind to me and the people I chose to be around. But I found that more and more I couldn't really get that. She got real jealous real easy, being hostile toward any woman who would come my way. I had to be extra careful with the way I even talked to my guy friends because apparently she couldn't even be totally sure I wasn't gay (I'm bi-curious, sure, but I don't really go out of my way to hit on no dudes for real), she was real insecure about the relationship in general, and whenever I talked things out to her and tell her what's giving me issues, she'd get all defensive talking something about how its all a product of her childhood and upbringing and current situation and such. Not only that, but there were moments where she would straight up just hurt me physically. She'd bite me real hard, which I made clear that I wasn't even all that into biting so that shit just hurt most of the time. One time my friend made a joke about a girl (who is now the girlfriend of one of my other friends) being my side-chick, and I understand not feeling great about it, but its a whole other thing when her first instinct was to nearly give me the Caesar treatment from Planet of the Apes and nearly bite my finger off, and that was about midway through the relationship. Other times she'd just slap me in the face out of "instinct" and I'd have to laugh or shrug it off because, well, it's just a product of what she grew up around.
She would tell me things. Things like the fact that everyone leaves her. I didn't want to be one of those people; I wanted to get her to improve and I pledged to stick with her through everything. That notion further solidifying when she tells me that I'm the only one keeping her alive; that I'm the reason she hadn't killed herself yet. Before I was aware I was being manipulated, I also took pride in that role as her lifeline, and I embraced the responsibility I had and it all worked out because I was really picturing a life with her. But that began to fall apart the day I shamefully hit her back.
Did it right in front of my friend too. She had gotten pissed about something I guess and felt the need to bite my arm real hard. I began to swat her away because I really just wasn't having it, and I guess I was real fucking angry cause I just kept trying to land a good hit on her, and my friend had to kinda push me away and break up the fight. She started crying, I felt like shit. It was really by that point which I realized that the relationship could keep going. She kept insisting that she was fine, but later down the road it was just more hostility and more distrust and more insecurity and ever waning patience on my end and even when she finally moved back into town with a friend's family that loved her there was still just no improvement, and then when I tried to talk to her about everything I was feeling she just kept antagonizing me and making me know how wrong I am for how the relationship was going, and I'm not gonna sit here and say that I didn't make my fair share of mistakes, but she chose to forgive me for everything the same way I forgave her for everything, and once I finally broke up with her because I really couldn't stand having to support her through a goddamn mental hospital again, she wanted to go ahead and say that the relationship failed because of me entirely, and used against me the things that she forgave me for, and started leaking texts and pictures and shit just get me riled up, and I knew not to give her the time of day, but fucking Christ, I was trying to be at least fucking respectful, and beyond basic decency, how could a person be so fucking ungrateful after everything I sacrificed and poured in for that fucking relationship that shouldn't have even lasted longer than eight months. I tried to fix it all, I tried to make her happy, I tried to be everything she could possibly need and it all went to fucking shit.
I need to chill.
I don't think any of you people will read this far into this blog because in fairness it took me a couple hours to write and this shit is real long.
Sometimes being a life-saver is nice and all, but seriously, don't the the wrong person's savior. Don't take on more than you can handle and most importantly don't value yourself based on what you think you're worth to other people, because at the end of the day, when they're gone, all that leaves you is an empty hole you've gotta work double-time to patch. It's okay to feel, its okay to love, just don't let it cost you. If there is a life to save, don't let it make yours in need of saving as well, and if yours needs saving, work on saving that first.
I might not even follow through with that myself, cause, you know, I'm soft, but that's just the moral of the story.
- R.C.
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