Relationship Material

I don’t know if I can be in a relationship. I don’t know if I’m relationship-material. I want to wine and dine my partner, take them to parts of the city the Toronto Star doesn’t write about, take cover in a coffee shop with them and watch the city continue through the rain, listen to them vent about work as I cook their favourite dish for them, sit with them in silence as we take in the scenery, have their fingers intertwined with mine as I lean into them leaning into me and we take everything in.

But I don’t know if I’m relationship material.

I don’t know if I can sacrifice my most prized possession – my individuality and independency – for the comfort of someone else.

I was talking to a friend the other day and venting out my confusion about an ongoing tinder acquaintance, fucking up the opportunity to make out with someone, and cutting ties with a friend I had made in New York. She interrupted me to say “Your life is super interesting, by the way”.

I had to admit that I’d coincidentally had the same thought a few days prior but feared it was a narcissistic thing to think. Since coming out and making that YOLO pact, I’d said yes to more things and things in the direction that I’d wanted. This wasn’t skydiving or backpacking through Europe… no, these felt more fulfilling at a smaller, more personal scale. It was travelling to New York and meeting people; it was going out to more bars instead of staying at home and netflixing; it was meeting crazy girls on tinder; it was quitting my job (I gave in my two week notice one week ago). I’d say my life is interesting. I’d say my music taste, movie taste, knowledge of current events, and hunger for more in life are pretty interesting.

I am pretty fucking interesting.

It tends to be my coupled friends who are more tamed. They seem more complacent with their lives… I don’t doubt their happiness at all, but (after speaking to them about this topic) I don’t think I’d feel comfortable having to ask for my partner’s permission to do things. I’d feel tied down.And my most prized trait, my individuality, would suffocate.

I’ve been chatting with a girl I met on Tinder since Christmas. We text every day but we’ve only met up twice. We’re both moving really slow, almost too slow for comfort. But I enjoy our banter. She’s really indecisive, more so than me, and the first thought that incurred was “okay, if we start dating, I’ll have to make an effort to be more decisive.”. Upon realizing this, I thought it was a weird response to a trait. It wasn’t “I’ll have to make her more decisive” or “I don’t like that about her”, which in hindsight would’ve been the more appropriate/common response.

I don’t know*, I’m rambling, it’s late and I just really wanted to update this blog. Good night.

 

* I haven’t said this this much since I met her.

 

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