Three breakups and a pandemic

These days, I usually try to be circumspect about how much personal stuff I share online, and if I do share, I like it to have a more universal purpose—some kind of takeaway that can benefit my readers. At first, I thought this post had totally failed in that. I thought it was a good old-fashioned self-pity party like I used to have in the old days. I almost decided not to post it at all. But the more I think about it, the more I see that this can be an inspirational tale. Or a cautionary tale. Or a tale of whatever you gain from hearing other people's stories. So sit down (it's long), and experience an increasingly rare glimpse into my heart. Just try to be gentle with it—it hurts!

It's March 12, the exact date that last year, my state's governor announced the first restriction on public gatherings, to slow the spread of the coronavirus. I'm glad to say that it looks like things are finally looking up, and like almost everybody else who writes stuff on the internet, I was planning to use this anniversary to do a little retrospective musing, perhaps share a few snappy tidbits about how life has changed since COVID.

But a few days ago, my subject matter took on an unexpected twist (because I'm not very good at dramatic suspense, I'll just tell you right now: my boyfriend broke up with me). So now, I'm taking this time to revisit not just the coronavirus era, but my last three relationships and the interstices between them. They all tell a story, and a year in quarantine is just the middle.

Eight years ago in January, my 7th boyfriend and I had a breakup. It was basically an accident; I went into the conversation thinking I wanted to clear up some concerns I had about our relationship; I ended it as a reluctant single lady. After I got over the initial heartache, though, I honestly wasn't too disappointed to become a single lady. It was during our tenure that I had finally learned how much fun life can be if you just act a little social, but we hadn't gotten out much together, so I was eager to experience the best of what city life had to offer!

What followed was a crazy couple of months. I went out clubbing; I got invited to parties (sometimes I brought my ex with me!); I did a fair amount of unenjoyable online dating; and eventually I ended up with my 8th boyfriend.

Though I kind of missed the thrill of meeting new guys once we paired up, I was happy to have a partner in crime. We spent a lot of our time living it up: going out at night, dancing, partying, and drinking—and I loved it. But he, who had been doing that kind of stuff for years before we met, was getting tired. Our relationship suffered a slow decline over nearly six years, from constant fun to the Valentine's Day that wasn't, to a breakup a week later.

Part of me was relieved that it was over, because we'd been growing apart for so long, but at the same time, we had been together for so long! I really didn't know how to be anything else!

Since our split happened around Mardi Gras, I gave up men for Lent, and focused on forming female friendships and becoming a strong independent woman. It worked, but it wasn't the life for me. As soon as Easter came around, I kicked into manic mode and jumped back into the dating scene! While being single in 2013 had been more downs than ups, I remembered how exciting the ups had been, and I wanted more of that! I had always loved trance music and concerts, but hadn't been to many. As soon as I was ready to mingle in 2019, I started going to a show almost every two weeks. And at every one of them, I had an absolute blast and met someone I was excited about. Then I met the one I was most excited about: boyfriend #9.

From June to the following March, he and I made concerts the centerpiece of our relationship; we didn't see each other often at first, but if there was a show in town, that was always a good excuse to meet up. I thought that someone 8 years my junior who I met at a concert would surely be up for lots of activities, but actually, other than for concerts, he wasn't often interested in going out. I sought out novelty on my own, through a women's Meetup group and my Bumble BFFs, but it just wasn't gratifying to me without a partner.

Sometimes I was disappointed that he wasn't as eager as me for constant activity, but our disparate drives for excitement were all moot when the coronavirus arrived and everything changed. I went from constantly striving for things to do and people to do them with, to just being at home. I was somewhat surprised how soon I grew to enjoy the quietude of a life unburdened by pressure to be moving and shaking. After a few isolating weeks, my boyfriend was permitted by his roommate to come visit me again, and we settled into a groove of after-work hangouts at my house, takeout dinner dates, and board games galore!

Our relationship was enough for me when our social circles narrowed, and I was feeling no further inclination to recommence the bustling life I'd led in the Before Times. I went into the COVID days desperate for excitement, but I was ready to go out of it with a comfortable sense that I'd had excitement enough. Although I was looking forward to attending concerts again, I also felt like I was ready to relax and enjoy a slower pace of life, with my slower-paced boyfriend by my side!

And then he ended things.

There are a lot of things that this breakup has in common with the last one: both occurred sometime around the intersection of February and March; both occurred for the same main reason (differing life goals, to be vague about it); and both involved an hours-long tear-filled conversation precipitated by a "We need to talk" (his words, not mine!).

There are also things that are vastly different. The last breakup (and the one before it), I was eager to have a chance to meet lots of people and explore my wild side...but this time, I don't feel like doing anything of the sort. Quarantine taught me that a quiet life isn't a bad life; it might even be the life that I prefer! Our final conversation as a couple really solidified for me how much my desires have changed, and I can't get over the irony that just when those desires were finally aligning more closely with my boyfriend's, that was when he stopped being my boyfriend.

A global pandemic did for me what years of experience did not: helped me to be happy with what I had. Now that I have something completely different, can I be happy with that too? My friends all tell me I've grown a lot since the last breakup—I'm more confident and less codependent. So this time around, can I just do my own thing and not need no man?

Haha, probably not. I know myself well enough to know that I am happier in a relationship, and as soon as I am over my devastation, I'll probably look for one again (in other words, no giving up dating for Lent!). But this time, I'm going to do things differently. I know I can do it, because I already have!

I had felt a lot of personal responsibility for the gradual demise of my previous relationship, so after it was over, I made some goals to be a better girlfriend next time around, and I'm pleased to say that I achieved all of them! In the process, I think I've evolved from seeking thrills to welcoming the quieter times that lead to a deeper connection. This doesn't mean I'll never go to concerts again, but I'm ready for a calmer, more deliberate approach when it comes to meeting boyfriend #10, whenever I'm ready for that to happen, and wherever I go from there.

 

So yes, my life has changed tremendously since COVID! As the world starts to return to normal, I don't feel like I have a normal to return to. But I'll figure out.