… or, why it’s so damn hard to call it quits.

You find yourself thinking:

She’s going away; so am I. Do we stay together or move on? Does that mean our whole time together was just an affair? That’s not all bad; I don’t have to marry everyone I get close to. But why ever take a relationship seriously if in the end it’ll fizzle away over something as minor as a semester abroad?

Then you remember all the people in the world you haven’t had sex with and think:

But there are all of these people in the world I haven’t had sex with yet. Think of who I could meet.

But you hate one-night-stands; they make you feel lonely and misunderstood. And let’s face it, the sex is crap. The kisses are mistimed, you never know where she likes to be rubbed, so it’s impossible to make her… They’re awkward. Everyone else is doing it, sure, but you shy away from them even though they appeal to you from time to time.

And while you’re thinking all of this, you flash back to the night you saw the girl you (didn’t yet know you) liked talking to this douchebag guy, giggling and twirling her hair and thought uh-uh, hellll no, and your guts went all gross at the very idea of her looking at anyone but you like that. So you did the thing you swore you wouldn’t do:

“Listen… I want us to talk about… us.”

After that, she was your girlfriend, and that meant you could hold hands without feeling weird about it; and when she needed a ride to the airport you were her designated lifesaver; and when she came over, she brought you Vitamin Water; and when you miss her, you buy her cupcakes. So are you really OK with her looking at someone else like that when you’re gone?

Of course I am. Society says I’m a bad-ass, so I am.

And the entire time you’re vehemently trying to convince yourself, you remember how strange it feels to be single after being in a relationship for a while. How, after a few months, you start going crazy… and women can just smell your singleness, so no one will hook up with you… and you masturbate four times a day… and get lethargic and sad. There’s something to that song that there really is no aphrodisiac like loneliness.

Yeah, but that sort of thinking would mean that no one ever takes risks. Starts new relationships. Meets new people. Gets out there. I can’t just cling to the one thing I’ve got. How would I know what others are like?

Sure, ostensibly you mean personality of course, but really, you remember the BJ you got once on the beach, and how she was the Mozart of BJs… or how many orgasms he gave you… or the size of his this and the shape of her that… and all the things you’ve never done but hope to. On the other hand, you tell yourself:

When we first met, we had the most fluent, interesting, playful conversation. She really is the best company; there’s nobody I’d rather hang out with, seriously. I mean, she likes Southpark and doesn’t let me be late to anything and is sweet and her eyes are the color of Jupiter or the Orthodox Church’s blue hemispherical roof. I can remember the constellations I found in the freckles on her face. How about that time…

You catch yourself. Best not to indulge that kind of thinking. Need to remain rational here.

What I’m saying is this: There are so many external forces that want to break up our relationships. The obvious ones are geographical—the job/study/life opportunities that move us all over the chessboard. Then there’s the god-damned-annoying allure of the unknown, the newness, ‘the hunt.’ It’s always there, nagging at the back of our minds:

Is he the best guy for me? Will I meet someone better? How can I get old without ever having been with a surfer guy/chick? Do I just want to have sex with new people for a while? And why does that feel so… petty…  to say out loud? (Answer: Because it is.)

And because there is a destructive static, a critical discontent at the back of our minds often encouraging us towards sabotage and stupidity, let’s take this moment to remember why we’re actually with the people we’re with. And how hard it was to find them. And how awesome it is to have someone bring you Vitamin Water and pick you up from the airport.

HOMEWORK: Recall when you first met your significant other/partner-in-crime/Thelma-to-your-Louise/Bonny-to-your-Clyde. Write yourself a reminder, anecdote, something. Sit back and appreciate them thoroughly.