Summer Romance; does what it says on the label.

Heartbreak is a contradictory fate. 

People have the power to jar your willingness to give affection and lock it in its tracks. There is one particular affair, which I identify now as a ‘summer romance’, that still keeps me puzzled to this day. We planted our mutual interest in May. Our craze for each other sprouted in June, blossoming in July. Fully grown by August but tainted by the cold that rolled in come September. 

On observing this more objectively; what have I learned about summer romances? They certainly do what they say on the label. Ingest more than the recommended dose too quickly and you become addicted. Consume with caution.

After nearly a year of wondering what ‘went wrong’, this is my final account of the summer romance that left me questioning myself. 

***

We spoke for approximately 4 weeks before going on our first date. Having bonded over huge ambition for success in the corporate world, I was hungry to impress him of my power, sharing my ideas for advertising concepts and the marketing campaigns I devised, fuelled by a desire to convince him of my maturity. During my trip to Hong Kong I spent too much time daydreaming and re-reading his fanciful texts. We agreed even before meeting that we were no longer looking to see other people. Only now I realise this is a large mistake. How can you possibly know if somebody you have never before met in the flesh can truly satisfy you?

The painfully planned first date was underwhelming, but the pressure of commitment was already hooked under our skin. Prior to meeting him, I had been adamant I was unready to share my mind with somebody as you do during a relationship. I just was not equipped, but my interest in him stumped this logic. Perhaps it was nerves on the first occasion because these engrained feelings quickly sank to be ignored for the time being as I fell into the comfort blanket of his meticulous manner. It felt fulfilling to be cared for and looked after, which is a favour I had never been overly willing to accept from partners. If anything, my desire for independence had stifled and stamped down past relationships. The bliss of excitement was mistaken for the underlying bliss of comfort as we grew closer and, on the surface, the potential for ‘us’ grew. 

After three easygoing months of no need to question and label, there came an uncertainty that needed to be answered. From the utter of his words ‘I just don't know… I will need to think’, I knew I had lost my drive for myself. My fire returned from within the meek and passive person I had become. I immediately replied; ‘No, I won’t sit around and wait for you to decide’. I recognised then all the things that made us incompatible. Let me make this very clear, this is not a story of blame. At 21, I expect to be heartbroken many times more in my life because heartbreak, after all, directs us toward what we really want. The most valuable advice I have ever been given is a simple one but brings me much joy. 

‘Wish not for lighter burdens, but for a stronger back’. 

This simple quote takes away the need to find fault, and replaces it with an internal desire to be able to cope with anything which is thrown your way. Life isn’t cruel, it just does. There are the moments I see through rose tinted glasses; the city break trip, weekend barbecues and lazy days. The meals, the compliments and the hope for something grander. 

Then on re-evaluation there are the moments I see the benefits of our crossroads. Being questioned about my intent to eat ice cream in bed in hindsight should have been an indicator he was not the one for me. His anal habits regarding keeping things tidy, clean and in order largely opposed my scattered attitude to housework. He once tripped on a dress in what I considered to be an unordinarily organised floordrobe. I once saw these oppositions as something that made us fit together like puzzle pieces, when in fact this idealistic metaphor was my way of denying our differences.

Only now I realise I was stifled. In attempting to show a maturity of somebody 8 years older than me, I was silencing my youth and vitality. My creativity and passion for work became purely monetary ambition. I can’t think of a time where I rolled my head back and just laughed, I suffocated my silliness and goofy humour in order to appear like I was capable of being calm and collected. The truth is I am neither and nor do I want to be. Having quirks is a gift in life and they are what separate us from some and bring us closer to those who matter. 

I finally have the courage to disentangle the ropes of this sordid short romance and tie the pieces together in a way that makes sense before laying them down and permanently walking away. I say this not with anger but with a calm and cautious disposition; whether a relationship is casual or has the intensity of this said story, the honest agreement of the boundaries should always be noted and respected. When the boundaries are set you can allow yourself to fill your thoughts right up to the brim knowing where to stop and reign in the rest before the situation overflows, or until the situation changes or you change. The following italicised paragraphs I write directly to him in search of the closure I was rejected to gain, as addressing these conclusions indirectly does not serve the language jarringly enough; 

When I told you i ‘really like you’, which we both knew meant love, you agreed. Having been cut with your blunt knife I vow never to be cruel. Being truly cruel is not letting somebody go, it is caging them in a false sense of security and feeding them through the bars with affection. Freedom was at your discretion, not mine. Letting your body and words move in waves of lust while your gut was clearly wrenching, temporarily ignoring the ticking time bomb that was the inevitable end. 

I have questioned if you were even real. I have never seen you again. The last time we spoke we exchanged notions which coded down to love, from me anyway, you cried as we verbally initiated separation, then you were nowhere. You spilled into my life when I didn’t even really need you, I wasn’t experiencing drought. I didn’t require your downpour but you fell with a force that ensured I got caught in your rapids. You poured into every spare space in my mind and consumed me until a brightness found you, unknown to me, dried you up and in turn you evaporated from my life as quickly as that. 

You were older, much more settled into the parameters you set for your life and she fit into your foundations better than me. For this I am not angry, I was proud to have extended a feminist hand as my feelings of concern for her far outweighed the contempt for your actions. I found myself hoping I was purely collateral damage, praying she was not being woven into a similar web as I had. I now believe this is what they call ‘personal growth’. I would be lying if I said I did not have the odd day-dream of keying your car, but ultimately I hope you are treating her with the respect you denied me. I am young and full of aspirations that are yet to be explored, the timing was not right and the credentials for our longevity were limited even minus the infidelity. 

So I wish you well in love and life. Having experienced a passion that was not built to last I suppose I can only thank you for my first summer romance…and I hope you bought the boat. 

I felt resentment for far too long. I decided too quickly that I was his summer romance when in fact he needed reality. I realise perhaps I am descending from my promise of this being something other than blame, but considering the circumstances I am being generous in my kindness. You can never control another’s questionable judgement, particularly when it comes to your heart. My mistake however was blatantly clear, but much more innocent. From experience I can now say it is hugely unadvisable to melt into the cast of somebody else's desired mould. Don’t grant somebody full access to the switch that determines whether you experience happiness. You should guard that one carefully, but don’t forget to share. 

On looking at how my opinions have differed since I now realise it is ok to say he was my summer romance too, not a great love stopped in it’s tracks. Since taking different roads, I have discovered a passion for feminism, buddhism and mindfulness off the back of a trip to Thailand. These are the moments that I know we were not meant for each other. Had we gone to Thailand together, lets face it, the chances for life epiphanies and new perspective in a 5 star hotel are most likely inhibited.

For social reasons I strongly considered not publishing this piece but I find in my personal experience that I have sought immeasurable comfort in accounts of others honesty. Heartbreak is the mental equivalent of a straight jacket. You know it is so simple to remove but you aren’t quite sure how you will reach the buckles that essentially grant you your freedom. Every time you part ways with somebody you are becoming truer to yourself. There is no shame in refusing to settle. We all deserve somebody who is not only enamoured by us but wants to invest time in learning how our cogs turn and what makes us tick. I finally think I recognise this as the respect I did not ultimately receive during this summer romance. Respect can be seen in many ways. Politely listening as you recount the details of your day, letting you drive their sports car without insurance, not treating you as sexual object. All of these things can be viewed as respectful, but what I feel is missing is the acceptance of the way your mind works; your triggers, your humour, your passions. When your drive for life fuses with somebody else's this is something to be excited about, or so I imagine.

So to all those who have ever loved and lost, I now speak directly to you. You have the luxury of limitless space inside your head. Find what makes you want to live, not purely survive. I never considered the romance with myself as the most important love story of my lifetime, but it’s the one I’m never going to lose. You are a human being and you are precious. You are complex and you deserve somebody who is entirely fascinated by you. On creating yet another life lesson in my head as a healing technique for this experience, I now possess a certain quiet smugness. Facing the simple fact that there is no shame in loving yourself and recognising you have the power to be your own saviour from having your heart torn is true heroism. I can plainly say with nothing but confidence; being heartbroken is not a tragedy, it’s an opportunity. Go seize the day. 

Credit: Stewart Mitchell