Something has to give.
And then it was over.
We’d started chatting on Hinge in the early summer. From the off, the conversation was flirty, fun and relaxed. I was excited to meet her. I still remember our first date: she was nervous, and I was completely smitten. Halfway through, I asked if I could kiss her. She said yes, and that was pretty much what I wanted to do for the rest of the night.
The next few weeks were a mix of teenage lust and grown-up conversation. We talked about difficult things, laughed at stupid stuff and were affectionate with each other. I liked her a lot. Life felt easy with her.
Then, over a few days, she grew quieter and more distant. She said work and being a mum were taking up so much of her time. Eventually, she told me she wasn’t ready for a relationship. I’d seen it coming. At first, I thought she was letting me down gently.
A few days later, I got back in touch and asked if I could share what I’d been thinking. I told her I’d really valued our time together. I wasn’t angry or trying to change her mind; I just didn’t want to pretend it had meant nothing. It felt brave to be that honest.
I believe her now. I miss her, and I’m disappointed we didn’t get to find out what might have happened. This isn’t how I wanted our story to end.
But losing that good feeling made me look at the rest of my life. I’ve lived with depression for many years. At some point, I got used to getting through the days and calling that coping.
She didn’t cause that, and she couldn’t fix it. But being with her showed me how much lighter life can feel. When it ended, I saw the gap between that and the life I’d been accepting.
What’s been hard to understand is why I feel like this when there’s a lot in my life I value. I enjoy my job and I’m damn good at it. I have people I can rely on when times get tough. I know my own worth and what I bring to a relationship. I can see all of that and still have no idea how to make myself happy.
Somehow, I’ve managed to assemble a life that looks successful from the outside. But I feel like I’m wasting it, enjoying very little and looking forward to even less. I can smile through an evening with friends and still feel painfully lonely. I’m dragging myself through each day, hoping things will change, then getting up and doing it all again. I’m exhausted.
That’s what she made me realise: my life needs to improve. Properly. I don’t know yet what that takes. This blog is where I’m going to start working it out.
This is where I’m starting: boy; broken.
THE SOUNDTRACK
Oh, I am / I’m tired out / by life
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