Category: Essays

With this openness, which is new to me, comes a whole new world, light years away from how I conducted myself in relationships. That world is called no apps, no websites, no games, no bullshit, and no fantasy. I thought the first four would be the hardest to deal with because it had to do with other people and it’s easy to rail at others, who seem to be the cause of your misfortune. But that last one, no fantasy, that quiet guy holding a beer at your dinner party, taking up no space in conversation or energy, that is much, much harder. It’s harder because it’s about yourself and how you parse the world.

I’m not talking about sexual or erotic fantasy here. Rather, what I mean is the fantasies we engage in when we meet someone and our mind starts to wander from room to room, possibility to possibility, hypothetical scenario to hypothetical scenario. This ‘no fantasy’ idea is made seemingly inescapable by the way we spend talking to others — that is, via the Internet or digital words through phones. All we have is that person’s words and their other digital accessories — photos, tweets, updates.

The idea for this piece really came from a fantasy about someone with whom had been talking sporadically for a while. I kept on treating her like I knew her. My mind made every possible interaction or scenario seem familiar. I know her, right? I’m thinking about someone I know. Actually. I don’t. It’s just words. I know her words. I met her a long time ago for about 3 shakes to a millisecond and since then, it’s just been words.

Fantasy looks like reality because the words are real, coming from a real person with a data plan and a semi-interesting life. The bitter sweetness of fantasy is that it’s quaint and yet all happening in your mind, most probably far away from the person about whom you’re thinking. Fantasy seems to share the same bar stool with reality. Sitting next to each other, looking the same, drinking the same beer, but they’re two different people with two different sets of buttcheeks.

You have to change your perspective to know the difference.

When the thought of this woman, or any other person whom I barely know, or just saw on the bus, or caught her looking my way, comes to mind, I close the door. Every single door. And just like after all your guests have gone home, you turn around and look at your home. And you realize that it’s just you and this space.

Having no fantasies is lonely, grueling, and empty. It’s counter-cultural and it’s counter-intuitive. It’s the former because what’s wrong with a little daydream about that person you met seven months ago, going for an imaginary walk with you? And it’s the latter because it’s so much easier to go on the imaginary walk than deal with the possibility that your paths may never cross, that they’ll marry someone else.

So, I’m open to be with someone. And until that happens again, there will be no buffers, no antidotes, no human-sized fillers, no medication. It will be me, my empty home, and no fantasy.

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Laughs dried up with the last messages that stopped coming.

Then, came the final meeting. When there’s been little, authentic talking and no meeting in person, a meeting is like a chug of cold water after a run. But the water was tepid and hard. There was no eye contact, no touch, no glimpse of giving this goodbye a decent burial.

Water on my face was gifts bought for her, returned to me. Amongst them was a gift to me, but I stared at the returned books. All hands were on deck pulling back the strings on my tongue.

It was now time to leave. Suitcases needed to be tucked to bed. Not a hug. Not a kiss. Not an excuse to walk to the car. It was a hug under duress.

There was no last phone call that she suggested. And there was nothing else in her words except a cold breeze that shut the door behind me.

As the plane rippled through the clouds, tears dropped and dried.

And now, life as I had it before I met her. Long days, no one to share puns and memes with. She made me appreciate both. No one to check in with and say hey, and to take in a ‘I love you’ like a snack bar. The small interesting things we see and find during the day, that you had grown accustomed to sharing with that person.

Today, I was on the train and I looked up from my flash cards. She had a face, carved with a miniature knife, delicate features and serene eyes. No real resemblance, but the same draw of my lover. I felt the draw and I missed her, for the first time in weeks.

Now, I just miss the ordinary moments where I found her there, where we would talk or jest or just ask questions until the day was over.

1. Alone time has become a jail

Attempts to weave confident, wise tales of contentment for himself about singlehood have failed. He’s tired. Alone time sucks. Friends are great, but they’re an oblong peg for a rectangle hole.

2. It’s easy to stop your life when you meet someone special

You’ll wonder why he’s willing to drop everything to be with you. Remember alone time and how much he loathes it? He may have a thanks-but-no-thanks approach to the solitary life now. This means that now you’re here, the mundane of his life can be suspended in air for a bit while he weaves his words and daily routines around your presence on his phone, computer screen, and couch. It just means you’re special and he wants to savor it.

3. The search has eroded sense of self

Maybe it just won’t happen, he’s said too many times. It didn’t happen before; hope seems out of reach. Every rejection and ruined relationship and failed fling has left a mark on his confidence and vigor.

4. He fears the “turn”

I heard this used by a friend. It’s that moment when something beautiful and crazy ends abruptly, your affections cool because he comes on too strong or is “too real, too soon”. He fears it coming because it’s always looming for him. Your man has had a dozen strong encounters and maybe twice as many “turns”. There is no “too soon” in his lexicon. So, extend grace.

5. Rushing into emotional, affectionate talk and outward forms of romance

You may only warm to holding hands after date six. He’s been thinking about it since minute 25 on date 1. Understand that the cry of his heart is for the first drop of affection, that first grip of flesh. You’re being wise and he’s being honest. You two will figure it out.

6. Rejection is both numbing and stinging

It’s happened so many times that it would be neurotic to deny it. But, it’s normal to let it wash over you. Most guys gave up after the first heartbreak, but this guy, like many others, kept on going until he got to you. Like the “turn”, the taste never leaves the back of his tongue, so bear with him if he brings up the fear of rejection.

7. Being in the moment is hard

You’ll pick up on this a lot. It’s not fake, but it’s a little odd. He’s there with his look and affection, but his mind is stuck in a some distant workshop, figuring out how to remain cool and desirable at all times, with the well-timed story, anecdote, and quip. All the previous points flow into this one; a lifetime spent in his head makes more sense to him than being present with you. He has stalkers — regret, his own faults and weaknesses, past mistakes, the past in general — trailing behind you two on every date, so don’t mind him if he steals away in his mind for a minute to look over his mind shoulders.

8. Looking into the (near) future is second nature

It would be out of character for him to talk about marriage or your children’s political beliefs, but he will talk about many, many future dates. He will mine your words for ideas, things to do together, and your random thoughtfarts for sweet ways to spend even more time with you. It’s tired-heart speak for, I want you.

9. Pornography and bro culture has marred his understanding of women

You don’t know about his relationship with pornography yet, whether it’s complicated or committed and steady. You will find out in time that he may be the sweetest man alive, but he may have some deeply held ideas about women that he’s never had challenged. These ideas will spill into everything he does with you; but, he’s here with you, which means that he’s also sick of that world. If he is edging, with a surgeon’s caution, towards a relationship with you, then there is space for you to call him out on his shit and encourage him to change himself.