This is…Surreal to me. Strange to me. Unreal to me. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, not… a real one anyway. I mean, I’ve had feelings, i’ve wanted to kiss someone, to have someone hold me, to have someone tell me that it’s okay, pause
I’m really happy you’re here, but, it may not seem like it.
I need to tell you something. A few things, actually.
Before you love me there’s a few things you should know, before I can love you, before I can be okay with loving you.
1) I’m anxious 2) ’m anxious 3) I’m anxious
No, seriously. It’s not a joke, not me telling you that I get a little nervous every once in a while, not me trying to play this off as something other than what it really is.
I need you to know that as much as want to be with you, I’m nervous about it, I need you to know that while I was texting you I felt so happy that I got great butterflies rather than whatever is swarming around in my stomach right now. I need you to know that as much as want to be happy, my anxiety won’t let me, that my anxiety won’t let me kiss you until I’m maybe sure want to, that I may not want to even then.
In this case, it’s seriously not you, it’s me, but the fact that you let me tell you this, let me be as comfortable in an uncomfortable situation as I can be, that makes me happy.
4) I’ve always been anxious. I blamed it on being young. I was 15 when He first asked me out under the stadium lights at a high school football game on a cool October night and yes, I was standing at attention in my band uniform waiting to march to the bus and, yes, I was caught off guard even though he hinted at something happening tonight and, yes, he was a guy I knew for years, and yes I liked him, and yes I had dreamed of this, and yes, said yes, but yes, I said no the next day. I blamed it on being young.
5) I’ve always been anxious. I blamed it on age. I was 17 when He first asked me out as I was hurrying out of the band room to make it home before the buses left. I was in a hurry, said yes, had a crush, but soon realized we knew nothing about each other. He was two years younger than me. Not mature. I felt awkward. I felt no butterflies. I felt anxious. I blamed it on age.
6) I’ve always been anxious I blamed it on him. I was 18 when I dated him. He was not the most attractive guy… But yes, I enjoyed talking to him, and yes, we were friends, and yes I texted him when I just needed to talk but no, that did not give him the right to get mad at me when we broke up, and no, that did not give him the right to tell me that I never cared, never loved him, and no, just because he loved me, and told me as much after only 2 weeks (through text) does not mean I loved him the same way…or at all. I didn’t have to, I should’ve known I liked him, yes, but I was anxious. I didn’t want to hangout, to hold hands, to admit it. But I was. And yes, maybe I should’ve told you, but I’m pretty sure did at the beginning. And that was both of our faults. I blamed it on him.
7) He told me he would pick me up at 7:30. I was anxious. I blamed it on me. I’m anxious when he picks me up, I’m anxious when I kiss him for the first time. Nothing happened then, would it happen now? Did I want it to? Why didn’t I want it to? We’re friends, we’re friends, we’re friends, we’re friends…okay? (Just two friends hanging out) yes, that text made me feel better. I felt better in the car, talking about high school and how we were glad to be out, about memories and band concerts and terrible people and great people and I felt better drinking milkshakes because that was the only thing I had eaten all day and I liked that he had the s’mores flavor while I had red velvet and I felt better as I told him I wanted to kiss him I felt better as I did kiss him in his car outside my house like in the movies and I felt better as I kissed him again as I told him I probably sucked at this because I hadn’t kissed anyone since that night after my grad party and I felt better as he kissed me again and again and I felt better as I told him I didn’t want a relationship, I instead felt relief.
Wait what? I felt relief.
But I had just felt fine, so why does a relationship freak me out so much? Why does the possibility of this going somewhere mean it can’t, that I have to press stop, push on the brakes, do not let anyone past the walls that the anxiety built with cement?
I want to knock them down as if they were sand, as if they were made of sticks instead of brick, but the swarming is back and there’s a buzzing in my ear, a pit in my stomach, and suddenly I’m drowning in water, in tears, when I should be melting into his arms but the air in my lungs pushes deeper deeper deeper away from safety instead of towards the one person I feel safe with.
8) I am anxious, but I know what I need. What I need is what makes me comfortable.
9) What I need is what makes me comfortable.
10) I guess you make me comfortable.
So, you, thank you. For waiting. For being patient. For letting me be comfortable with myself before trusting someone else.
For pulling me up to the surface. For letting me breathe. Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for being okay with this…whatever this is. Thank you for realizing that I am not nothing just because my fears tell me so. Thank you for being there. For being here.
Dear future boyfriend, I love you.
At least, I hope I do.
Jordyn Taylor is a sophomore with a double major in Creative Writing and Publishing and Editing and a minor in Professional and Civic Writing. She is involved in FUSE, where she is the current treasurer and future junior director, and Slam club. She enjoys murder mysteries, red velvet cupcakes, and her puppies.