Graduation Saturday -- June 13, 2015

I graduated college this morning.

I miss my friend Ana.

I'm sitting on my Ikea desk, in my room, listening to Slow Dive. I'm cleaning up my room because some friends are going to come over around 6 or 7 pm. It's 2:14 right now. We're having a barbecue.

I still need to apply for the Master's program. I have until the 15th or 17th.

I try so hard to be patient and compassionate. It's so hard. It's worth it.

I still have so much time until the party starts. I don't exactly know what to do.

No, yes I do. I have work to do. I have time to wait. I kinda have to wait. But waiting's not so bad. At least I have people who care about me.

I truly wanted to introduce Ana to my family. Why didn't I? I'm not ashamed of her. But maybe I felt that was too relationship-y. But friends introduce other friends to their families at graduation. But how come I didn't feel the need to introduce any of my other friends? How come only Ana?

Only Ana.

We spent the morning together.

No! I can't fall back into obsessing about her. Not today, when I just graduated.

I have to be patient, and hope for the best. I have to allow time for maturation within me. I have to wait patiently for life to unfold.

Okay. Okay. Barbecue's at 6 or 7.

I invited Ana, but she had plans already.

She gave me a card this morning with a real heartfelt message inside about how she thinks of me as her good friend. I think the card I gave her turned our relationship more platonic than I expected. But, I gave her that card because I wanted to, without expecting anything in return. That's the kind of friend and partner I ought to be: one who gives without expecting rewards or favors in return. It's not easy at all.

We sat next to each other, and went up together, and walked together. I hugged her for the first time at the end.

I'm too obsessed already; I can feel it bothering me like a bad-fitting shoe.

This kind of tumultuous love bullshit is too sad to think about. I'm too tired to handle it. I hope it passes soon.

17 months pass

I read once that romantic love will last between 12 to 17 months. That is, that high feeling one gets when they're in love lasts for that long--that feeling where your SO, the object of your affection, seems without fault, seems unreal, and your moods depend upon the flux of their existence.

I don't feel in love with Ana.

It's been about 16 months since I first fell for her behind building 5 on the stairs, studying for a linguistics quiz. We simply ran into each other an hour before class started, not really knowing the other, but deciding to study. She sat two steps above me, on that narrow stairwell, as we held books on our laps. I recall during our conversation the building feeling of clicking with her--everything seemed to find a place in her response; every joke landed; she understood my humor and my timing. My internal beats found a similarly paced heartbeat. that's when i fell in love--when, you know, when i first became infatuated. the intrusive thoughts only continued from there.

There's so much i don't even know about her. For some reason, she's really into drummers. Her boyfriend is one. She said she almost died while high one time at school (she only thought she was going to die). For the past 16 months, i've been content to just be around her, but now that's changing. i notice that i don't know much about her life outside of school.

And now--16 months later--i see her and feel sad. i feel the restless ticking pushing us apart, weeks unfeeling, distances of space expanding for each second between us. I feel how untuned she really is to me. Her life cannot possibly match into mine, nor can i now, in my current situation, possible hope to fit into hers. I need more years of maturity and experience to even begin thinking about taking care of another person, and, for all her good qualities, i know Ana is, at heart, a fragile person who needs to be taken care of.

We met at the wrong time, is all.



PS. I realize that nobody holds my happiness in their hands except for me. I must remain open to all that life offers. My life is worth more than being somebody's boyfriend or husband; it is the culmination of my experiences, skills, desires, hopes, efforts. If I put in the effort to improve my own life--not for anybody else's sake, but purely for my own; with no expectation or wish for the approval of anybody--then I think I can lead a content and fulfilling existence. But that's all for another time.