September 2021

Goodbye to the girl that I’d been

Goodbye to the girl that I was

Goodbye to the girl that you lost

• Goodbye, Marina

As a serial monogamist, James was considerably one of the shortest relationships in my dating history, at 31-years-old ending at 18-months in July 2020, amid the height of the pandemic. My two previous relationships having lasted four years, James was not the type of relationship I’d become accustomed to, but that doesn’t change the profound impact it’s had on my life.

I met James on OKCupid in November 2018, just weeks after breaking up with my ex, Matt. I was in the middle of a manic episode and hadn’t processed the breakup the way most people need to. I introduced myself to James on the platform, playing off his identified hatred of olives, pickles, and all things brined. He was easy to talk to but the first date was delayed because he was on Thanksgiving break in Aruba with his family when we made the connection. When the first date finally arrived, I had a terrible cold; I let him know that I didn’t want to reschedule but I was also disgusting and laden with cold medicine. He still wanted to meet.

As long a date as any good one should be, we laughed and talked for hours. I, of course, forgot I’d taken cold medicine and had a couple drinks, feeling them strongly. Getting up to use the restroom, I left my purse with wallet and phone in my seat without thinking twice. After dinner and drinks, James walked me to my car where we stood awkwardly for just a moment before he declared something along the lines of, “I’m just going to put my life on the line” and kissing me.

We texted nonstop for the next week, lamenting the fact we had not agreed to meet sooner. After the second date, we met three more times in the next week, including a visit to a famous street dressed in Christmas lights where we took our first photo together. By the end of the third week, we became “official”. It was a magical time. A few days later on Christmas Eve, I’d met his family, and on Christmas day he met mine. He took me to see the Nutcracker for a Christmas gift; I bought him a cologne sampler set. I knew that I was going to fall in love. I knew he was my person.

When we celebrated the New Year together, however, I found him kissing someone else right in front of me, a New Year’s ball-drop kiss. We discussed his history of open relationships, and I contacted a friend who is polyamorous to talk about my conflicting feelings, and I decided to let it go on a conscious level. But it took years before I could actually fully let it go.

By February 2019, two plus months into the relationship, the fighting started. James went on a trip to visit old college friends and was frustrated with the amount of texting I was engaging in. Thereafter the fighting continued. It grew its wild head and rose like a beast.

James and I kept trying different methods to address the fighting and the fact that he did not want to text as much as I did, confusing given the level of communication the relationship started with, but also leading to other difficulties such as him projecting his ex onto me, accusing me of being manipulative, and my coping with severe depression and suicidal ideation, along with trust issues stemming from that kiss.

I would constantly imagine that James was cheating on me if I didn’t hear from him. And I relished when I heard from him. I was tethered to my phone constantly waiting for that next text to know everything was okay. At the same time, my constant accessibility and need for communication infuriated and anguished James.

Over the next several months, the fighting only got worse; it was toxic. And by July 2019, he attempted to break up with me, leading me to spiral out of control and ultimately ending up in the hospital.

James was my savior at the hospital, calling daily and visiting on alternating days. He brought me books and a notebook. He brought me sushi. He communicated to all my friends and family what was going on and the progress I was making so that I would not have to.

After the hospital, James and I talked about going to couples therapy, but we could never make it work with our schedules. I’m also not entirely sure James’s heart was in it.

In December 2019, my medication started stabilizing me more and the fighting decreased somewhat. We attended my best friend’s wedding in which I was a bridesmaid. Over the next 6-months, we fought more and more. We found reasons to stay together while always on the verge of declaring one would block the other if we didn’t respect each other’s boundaries (James), and time and well-being (me). We loved each other, despite it all, but we were beyond miserable.

On July 4^th, 2020, James broke up with me over the phone. I remember it clearly: I noticed he’d stopped replying “I love you” for a few days before I texted him to ask what was going on. He responded by asking if he could call. I answered and in turn asked if he was breaking up with me; he confirmed. I remember feeling an odd mix of devastation and relief. He came over and we spent the day together grieving.

But we decided to remain friends. We took a 2-month break from communicating at all then slowly eased our way back into each other’s lives. We started fighting again and decided not to talk for another 6-months, just in time for our friendiversary (the anniversary of our break up). It lasted all of two-months before we were back in each other’s lives. Though we continued to fight, it was far more manageable and fewer and farther between. I, personally, was doing well with my medication and my counselor was talking about reducing our frequency from biweekly to once monthly. I kept putting this off but finally agreed.

Post-breakup, our fighting had a more common theme: I’d developed an insecure-attachment style and was over-texting. A dangerous combination that led to fighting renewed by June 2021.

But these fights were worse. In July 2021, a fight in which James screamed at me to never contact him again led me to believe that the friendship was over and I grieved for a week. But James resurfaced and agreed to try another way, distancing ourselves. We went ziplining as had been planned for months and expressed relief that we were still friends.

By late July, I started becoming depressed again and started spiraling out of control while talking to a guy I’d had only three dates with. The same habits, the same drama. I’d learned a behavior that will forever tarnish my ability to form healthy relationships.  After years of being told as much, I cottoned on: I have a texting problem. I text with inappropriate frequency, intensity, and timing. I begged to be heard, to be understood, but, only three dates in, what guy would care?

Simultaneously, James and I fought again. My depression detonated. I missed several days from work and wrote to Facebook trying to at least feel heard.

James distanced himself from me, which only made me feel worse. He started to let his guard down after a couple weeks of this and, of course, we fought again. I’d finally had enough; he’d finally had enough. Our friendship was as toxic as our dating relationship was, if not more so.

It is with great regret I share that on August 16^th 2021, James and I agreed to end the friendship. It’s the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make, and the greatest and worst relationship I’ve ever had to leave. I love James dearly, with every inch of my being, but it’s time I put my mental health first.

You may be wondering where the bipolar comes into this. It seeps into every aspect of my history with James. From the rapid cycling throughout our dating relationship to developing an insecure attachment style. My trust issues, my dependence on connection, my proclivity to develop an addiction to texting.

So, the next chapter of my life begins and I am taking a break from online dating and focusing on myself. Getting better, getting stronger, and concentrating on what matters most to me: my career, my pets, and my health.