On… commitment?

This thing scares me. It’s my first real relationship. My first adult relationship. He won’t be the first one I’ve loved, but he’ll be the best one I’ve loved yet. He’s a good man. Smart, funny, maddeningly good at pushing my buttons. Loves his family, loves his friends, loyal to a fault. He pushes me and expects me to push him back. I don’t love him yet, but I will. 

He’s going to break my heart. It’s a funny thing to think about right now, right at the beginning, but I know it’s coming and, sometimes when I look at him, I see it. Part of me wants to jump ship now, save myself. Most of me wants to see it through. When we break up, it’s going to be ugly. We work together, practically live together, go to school together. Our lives are so entangled. 

I’ve known him for a little over a year. Been fucking him for a year. Had a crush on him for seven months. Been sleeping in his bed for four months. Been dating him (officially) for two months. We were a long time coming. It’s only going to get worse. Those numbers are only going to go up.

I don’t know how to cut someone out of my life all at once. Go cold turkey. I guess I’ll learn. 

Two years from now, we’ll be important chapters in each other’s dating history. I’ll miss the way he yells “zombie!” when I bite him. He’ll miss the way I chastise him in French. We won’t speak anymore, but we’ll occasionally stalk each other’s Facebook profiles. It’s that little you itch you shouldn’t scratch (it will only make it worse!), but you do it anyway. I hope I’ll be able to smile when I think of him. Eventually. 

I’m a better person in part because of him and I’ve learned a lot from him. How to communicate. How to get angry. How to stand up for myself in a relationship. What a healthy relationship is. When we break up, I’ll still have those things.

The hopeful romantic in me thinks maybe I’m underestimating us. Maybe we’ll survive. Maybe we’ll last. I’d kind of like that. 

But it’s so much easier to imagine the eventual demise of “us” than to picture a future of “we this” and “we that.” I caught myself using “we” at his house the other day when I was showing his friend I just met the contents of the refrigerator. “We have a few gluten-free things in here…” We? Where did that come from? Oh, right, from being a couple. From being with him every night for the past week. From our boss switching his schedule and then switching mine so we can work together. From our friends (oh god, our friends) inviting us to their wedding (their wedding) with a single invitation. “You’re each other’s plus one.” 

So instead of looking too hard at all of that, I just ponder our inevitable break-up. Apparently, I find the thought of failure and heartbreak romantic.