They say pride comes before a fall. I wonder where I'll fall to?
Ha, so it would appear that the fortnight or so after Valentines day is almost comically tainted for me. Two years ago, on the 18th I think though my memory could very well be fuzzy, I was walking with the lovely Alison in the Aranda nature reserve, when she brought up everyone's favourite topic of conversation, the subject of breaking up. I only managed to hold on to her because the moment she told me, I collapsed from sheer misery (handy hints, guys and gals!). A year ago, on the 28th, I was again walking through the Aranda nature reserve with the lovely Alison, when the same subject cropped up. This time I didn't manage to hold on, though that may have had something to do with the fact that I managed for her sake to restrain myself from collapsing until after she had left. And this year, on the 24th, I received an email from the lovely Alison that mentioned that she'd found a new bloke. And though this might seem an odd response, I have to say that I'm actually quite proud of myself.
They say you never forget your first love. There was an interesting postsecret about it a while back, which said something along the lines of "Whenever someone says 'you never forget your first love,' all I can think is 'oh shit.'" The thing I had with Prabha was really only a kind of lust that had accidentally taken on the misnomer of love. And I don't think there's even a word for what I had with Stacy. So I would say without doubt that Alison was my first love. And yes, I don't think I'm going to forget her anytime soon. My time with her (particularly the former half. You know, the non-depression fuelled half) were without doubt the happiest of my life.
But one of the reasons that the lovely Alison so truly deserves the epithet 'lovely' is that she didn't abandon me after we broke up. And we managed to retain a friendship- shaky at first, but becoming more mature over time. It was in that shaky period that I made my feelings clear to her. And those haven't changed. Because I recognised that, though I did make her happy, I didn't make her as happy as she deserved to be. (And it'd be nice, if for nothing else then for the sake of my own ego, to be able to blame that on the severe fatigue and subsequent depression I suffered in the latter half of our relationship (and still have lingering traces of to this day, though to nowhere near the same extent thanks to, on the advice of councillors as well as the lovely Alison, my getting more exercise), but I had to admit I had no way of knowing that for sure). I doubt it would surprise anyone that knows me to hear that I still held not-so-secret feelings for her. And I let her know these existed (without rubbing it in her face, of course), because I think a relationship built on coverups is never going to truly work. But I also recognised that a relationship with only one-sided feelings wasn't exactly going to work either. I mean, it wasn't that I wouldn't have fought for her; she well knows I'd have walked through the driving rain just to see her smile. But when she made it clear that the feelings she'd once held had gone, (although I will admit I initially did some stupid, idiotic things (even if only a very few of them were actually deliberate) which, further earning her the epithet, the lovely Alison took stoically) I had no desire to put her in a painful situation. So I set out to transform our relationship into a deep friendship. And I'll always be glad we managed to do just that.
However, one of the things that has been particularly hard in moving on (not, in case it needs stating, for want of trying), is the fact that I'm yet to meet any girl as beautiful (beauty here defined as more than simple physical looks) as the lovely Alison (if you happen to be reading this, and that in any way hurt you to read, please forgive me for saying so. But know, if from nothing else than at least from the surrounding text, that nothing untoward is meant by it, it's simply a statement of fact). But it was on a similar note that something loomed. I'm not as stupid as I may perhaps occasionally appear. I knew that the wonderfulness and beauty I saw in her could hardly fail to be noticed by other guys. But I told myself (and Ali too, though who knows if she remembers. Or even believed I wasn't just posturing, seeing as I was pretty distraught during that initial period) that, because I loved her and cared so much for her happiness, the fact that it was another guy bringing her happiness didn't matter too much, if that was what she wanted.
But, of course, I had no way of knowing for sure that I could actually put that into practice. And it was brought up a couple of times as well. When Helen sought my support over her break up with Rhys (or Reece? I still don't know how it was spelled. Guess I never will...), we eventually got onto the subject of Ali and I, and how impressed she was by how mature we both were about the break up (not so subtextial meaning being that Rhys/Riece/Reeses-Pieces had acted far from maturely). But when she asked me how I'd take it when she found someone else, I could only truthfully say I didn't know (I didn't mention what I'd told myself, as she was already acting as though I was amazing (er, just to clarify, not in a rebound-contextial way), and I of course had no desire to hurt her when she was so down by further increasing any perceived difference between his actions and my own). In one of the many times Rishty sought consolence over his frustrated unidirectional university love, he seemed to think that he needed to return the favour and get me to seek his condolence for Alison-related stuff. When I eventually told him of what I'd told myself, so as to try and show him I was alright, he seemed to think it was 'one of the most honorable things he'd ever heard,' (To be completely honest, though, and no sense of false modesty or anything, I really don't see it as being anything particularly amazing (that might seem to fly against the face of what I've been saying. Let me clarify: though I don't think it's anything particularly amazing, as I'm sure other people manage it all the time, I am still proud of myself for managing to accomplish it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...)). But then he asked me if I'd actually be able to carry it out in practice, to which of course I could only say I didn't know.
But now, finally, I was given the chance to see if I could put into practice what I'd long told myself. And I'm not going to lie, when I read the line in the email, it felt at first as though my gut had been replaced by a replica made out of burning hot iron. And when that inital feeling began to cool, I was left with a lingering feeling as though a swarm of maggots were squirming happily around inside it. But when that too had finally calmed down, and I could force myself to read on, I was left only with the knowledge, from the general feel of her email, that she was happy. And that, in turn, actually made me feel a bit happier!
Thus the source of my pride. It's just further proof of how far I've come! Of course, it remains to be seen whether that feeling will last, though I think it will. But for the moment, it seems that all I have left to ponder is whether or not the fact that I was actually happy for her makes me the kind of stereotypical 'nice' and good on paper guy that's actually boring and completely undateable.
Haha :p
They say you never forget your first love. There was an interesting postsecret about it a while back, which said something along the lines of "Whenever someone says 'you never forget your first love,' all I can think is 'oh shit.'" The thing I had with Prabha was really only a kind of lust that had accidentally taken on the misnomer of love. And I don't think there's even a word for what I had with Stacy. So I would say without doubt that Alison was my first love. And yes, I don't think I'm going to forget her anytime soon. My time with her (particularly the former half. You know, the non-depression fuelled half) were without doubt the happiest of my life.
But one of the reasons that the lovely Alison so truly deserves the epithet 'lovely' is that she didn't abandon me after we broke up. And we managed to retain a friendship- shaky at first, but becoming more mature over time. It was in that shaky period that I made my feelings clear to her. And those haven't changed. Because I recognised that, though I did make her happy, I didn't make her as happy as she deserved to be. (And it'd be nice, if for nothing else then for the sake of my own ego, to be able to blame that on the severe fatigue and subsequent depression I suffered in the latter half of our relationship (and still have lingering traces of to this day, though to nowhere near the same extent thanks to, on the advice of councillors as well as the lovely Alison, my getting more exercise), but I had to admit I had no way of knowing that for sure). I doubt it would surprise anyone that knows me to hear that I still held not-so-secret feelings for her. And I let her know these existed (without rubbing it in her face, of course), because I think a relationship built on coverups is never going to truly work. But I also recognised that a relationship with only one-sided feelings wasn't exactly going to work either. I mean, it wasn't that I wouldn't have fought for her; she well knows I'd have walked through the driving rain just to see her smile. But when she made it clear that the feelings she'd once held had gone, (although I will admit I initially did some stupid, idiotic things (even if only a very few of them were actually deliberate) which, further earning her the epithet, the lovely Alison took stoically) I had no desire to put her in a painful situation. So I set out to transform our relationship into a deep friendship. And I'll always be glad we managed to do just that.
However, one of the things that has been particularly hard in moving on (not, in case it needs stating, for want of trying), is the fact that I'm yet to meet any girl as beautiful (beauty here defined as more than simple physical looks) as the lovely Alison (if you happen to be reading this, and that in any way hurt you to read, please forgive me for saying so. But know, if from nothing else than at least from the surrounding text, that nothing untoward is meant by it, it's simply a statement of fact). But it was on a similar note that something loomed. I'm not as stupid as I may perhaps occasionally appear. I knew that the wonderfulness and beauty I saw in her could hardly fail to be noticed by other guys. But I told myself (and Ali too, though who knows if she remembers. Or even believed I wasn't just posturing, seeing as I was pretty distraught during that initial period) that, because I loved her and cared so much for her happiness, the fact that it was another guy bringing her happiness didn't matter too much, if that was what she wanted.
But, of course, I had no way of knowing for sure that I could actually put that into practice. And it was brought up a couple of times as well. When Helen sought my support over her break up with Rhys (or Reece? I still don't know how it was spelled. Guess I never will...), we eventually got onto the subject of Ali and I, and how impressed she was by how mature we both were about the break up (not so subtextial meaning being that Rhys/Riece/Reeses-Pieces had acted far from maturely). But when she asked me how I'd take it when she found someone else, I could only truthfully say I didn't know (I didn't mention what I'd told myself, as she was already acting as though I was amazing (er, just to clarify, not in a rebound-contextial way), and I of course had no desire to hurt her when she was so down by further increasing any perceived difference between his actions and my own). In one of the many times Rishty sought consolence over his frustrated unidirectional university love, he seemed to think that he needed to return the favour and get me to seek his condolence for Alison-related stuff. When I eventually told him of what I'd told myself, so as to try and show him I was alright, he seemed to think it was 'one of the most honorable things he'd ever heard,' (To be completely honest, though, and no sense of false modesty or anything, I really don't see it as being anything particularly amazing (that might seem to fly against the face of what I've been saying. Let me clarify: though I don't think it's anything particularly amazing, as I'm sure other people manage it all the time, I am still proud of myself for managing to accomplish it. But I'm getting ahead of myself...)). But then he asked me if I'd actually be able to carry it out in practice, to which of course I could only say I didn't know.
But now, finally, I was given the chance to see if I could put into practice what I'd long told myself. And I'm not going to lie, when I read the line in the email, it felt at first as though my gut had been replaced by a replica made out of burning hot iron. And when that inital feeling began to cool, I was left with a lingering feeling as though a swarm of maggots were squirming happily around inside it. But when that too had finally calmed down, and I could force myself to read on, I was left only with the knowledge, from the general feel of her email, that she was happy. And that, in turn, actually made me feel a bit happier!
Thus the source of my pride. It's just further proof of how far I've come! Of course, it remains to be seen whether that feeling will last, though I think it will. But for the moment, it seems that all I have left to ponder is whether or not the fact that I was actually happy for her makes me the kind of stereotypical 'nice' and good on paper guy that's actually boring and completely undateable.
Haha :p