My Relationship Failed...

Boredom on a spring night - no friends to hang out with, completed homework, and not a thing on television to watch other than constant reruns of Unsolved Mysteries on the ‘Pluto’ streaming app.

So what did I do? Downloaded the infamous Tinder.

If you are unaware of what I am referring to, Tinder is a popular dating app where users enter details about themselves and incorporate nice pictures in hopes of finding the “love of their life”. One either swipes right if they like someone, or left if they never wanna see that person again.

I was swiping away when suddenly, I came across the profile of a beautiful woman. Beautiful brown eyes, flawless caramel skin, luscious hair and the brightest smile that made my heart flutter in that moment. I was in awe of her beauty and her bio was pretty interesting as well, so I took a chance and swiped ‘right’.

I didn't realize she had swiped on me at first, so when my phone buzzed and I realized we were a match, I was ecstatic! “Yes, she found me interesting too!” I thought to myself.

I took a chance and sent her a message while silently hoping that she would respond. She responded within a few hours, and I admit, the conversation was a little dry at first. I’m not entirely sure if we were both nervous or just trying to find talking points; I was trying to relax a little because I didn’t want to seem annoying. However, I couldn’t stop myself from responding to each of her messages and before long, we managed to find a great talking point about school. A discussion about school became an avenue for other conversations and within days, we were planning to meet up in the park. In the age of COVID-19, I was a little apprehensive I’ll admit. But I took a chance and set a date with her.

It was a sunshine filled Sunday afternoon when we met at a local park here in our city. We walked and talked for a couple hours, sharing a laugh and finding various things we had in common. We were both going to school for couseling, both had a mutual love for animals, both worked in childcare; just to name a few. Above all, we both had an intensive love for Christ, and that was a selling point for me. “She seems perfect.” I thought to myself throughout the duration of our first little date. By the end of our date, we had hugged it out and planned to meet up again. I smiled during the whole drive back home. I had a feeling this would go well.

Our second date involved a spur of the moment Tuesday night dinner. I remember it well; it was early May, during Teacher Apprection Week to be exact. I went home after work and rapidly freshened up to make myself look nicer than I felt (going on a date with dried baby food on my pants was not a good idea), then I set off to meet her at the restaurant. When I arrived and saw her, I remember thinking her smile was beautiful and I looked forward to another great night of conversation - with good food, of course.

We had a great time that night; laughing and talking over seafood and alcohol (not too much because we had to drive home lol). I remember thinking that I didn’t want the night to end and from the way she was gazing at me, I had a feeling that she was thinking the same thing. Once again at the end of the date, we shared a warm hug and tried to get an idea of when our third date would be. We ultimately solidified plans later in the week, and once again, I was excited.

However, our third date had to be pushed back a little.

It was a Friday morning; I was in a meeting when she texted me out of the blue, explaining that our date would have to be postponed as she was having some struggles with her mental health and would be voluntarily checking herself into treatment. I was a little bummed to say the least but I understood. After all, mental health comes first. But as the days rolled on and due to us not being able to have any contact due to her being locked down within a facility, I found myself missing her. I tried not to miss her. I tried to prepare myself for what would typically happen: she would declare that she needed to work on herself and she wouldn’t want to pursue things further. I was preparing myself to be let down, and I decided that I would be okay with that.

Well, things did not go in that direction. After a little less than a week, she reached out again, explaining that she felt a lot better and that she wanted to go ahead with our next date. I asked several times if she was sure, but she was positive that we would go ahead with our date and just see where things would go. I was ecstatic once again. Finally, I had met someone special and she still wanted to see me. I was more than ready. We had a plan; we were going to the mall for a little retail therapy and to catch a movie the following evening (which was a Friday).

Once again after work that Friday, I rushed home to change clothes then I set off for my little date. We met inside the Barnes and Noble shop, and we hugged for the longest time. I felt so happy to be in her presence again and she seemed a lot more relaxed and happier. That night, we laughed and talked once more like no time had ever passed. We had dinner. We saw a movie. We held hands throughout that night. I resisted every urge to kiss her. We finally parted ways around midnight, and from there, the feelings for her were growing.

We shared our first kiss a couple days later, after a fourth date which consisted of a church service followed by a fun trip to the local carnival. A few days later, we had declared our relationship official. She was my girlfriend. I was her girlfriend. All was well. Everything was working out and I was actually happy.

My...my...my; how quickly things changed.

It began with a small argument on a Tuesday evening, towards the end of Pride month. I had recently come out to my mother shortly before this girl and I made things official, and I had spoken highly of this girl, spoken highly of my feelings for her. But what I had not done was come out to my grandmother yet. However, I was in the process of doing so in my own way. I wanted to tell her, but it was a little more difficult simply because a) we’re an African American Christian household and b) my grandmother is from a completely different generation. We know how our elders can be when it comes to LGBTQ+ - right?

So anyway, on this Tuesday afternoon, my girlfriend kept pressing and pressing about us posting about each other on social media and making things official. We agreed to do a small post on Instagram; that was all fine and well right? The argument came when we were discussing when we were to have plans again, which involved me forgetting that we had plans for the weekend.

Just a brief note - I was still working full time, doing internship and homework, so there were times where things would slip my overly active, chaotic mind. This was one of those times.

This led to a small disagreement during which she accused me of not being considerate of her feelings, mentioned that she felt as though her nor our relationship was important to her because I briefly forgot about our plans. I tried to explain that I tended to forget things a lot no matter what they were, especially because there’s a lot going through my mind at one time. Well, she was not impressed with that response and decided to have a small argument with me right then and there. I walked away because I know how I am: I get angry, I don’t listen, and I say disrespectful things. So I was the bigger person: I apologized and walked away.

We resolved that conflict, only to have yet another one on 4th of July; literally hours before we were going to her parents house for a small barbecue - which was overwhelming in itself. This particular time, I was a little frazzled - running a few errands for my grandmother and for my brother - which meant I was running a tad bit late with meeting my girlfriend at her apartment. I explained the situation to her and didn’t think much of it, until I turned up at her apartment. She was once again angry with me, indicating that I no longer cared much about our relationship nor did I take her feelings into consideration. She then accused me of making excuses for why I was running late, once again refusing to listen to me, even though I apolgoized several times for being late.

Strike two. I’m not one for petty arguments and to me, she seemed to make a mountain out of the smallest hill. Still, we apolgozied and moved forward, though my gut was starting to scream at me. “You better get out of this now.” it was telling me, but I chose not to listen. “I can make this work.” I thought to myself.

A couple weeks later we argued yet again; she accused me of “breaking my promise to her”, simply because I promised to FaceTime her but I accidentally fell asleep. She says she understood that I’m tired and that of course I would fall asleep, but I shouldn’t have promised anything if I was not going to come through. Another argument followed a few weeks later; this time because I wanted to be a little more private with our social media posts and that in turn, meant that I was ashamed of her and wanted to hide her. Even though I explained that I am a little more private about personal matters because I like protecting that type of fragile energy.

These arguments weren’t the only thing that had me going crazy. There was the constant mentioning of her exes - which apparently I needed to hear about - then there was this constant talk of renewing her lease and me moving in with her even though I mentioned several times that a) I could not afford to do that and b) that it was too soon for something like that (we hadn’t even been together two months).

Oh, and then there was the time where she told me that she felt like I would rather “be with Mariska Hargitay”, simply because Mariska is one of my favorite actresses ever and I always follow her content. “You have her post notifications on and you don’t even have mine on….It seems like you want to be with her more than me.” Oh yeah folks; she was serious.

All of these relationship struggles as I dealt with the demands of a full time job, school work, and internship. And then she really expected me to move in with her and/or spend all of my free time with her?

Oh yeah - apparently we didn’t spend enough time together; even though I went over to her place pretty much on all my lunch breaks, some evenings after work, and most days after internship. But apparently that wasn’t a “grown up” relationship to her.

Our final conversation came on the day of our “two month anniversary” - or whatever. This conversation followed a weekend where she had been away visiting a friend and I was at home, in bed sick for the most part while trying to keep up with school. Once again these same issues popped; she didnt feel respected, we didn't spend enough time together, felt like I wanted to date Mariska Hargitay, etc.

I came to the conclusion that I could not give her whatever she needed, and I told her that. The break up was calm, and I told her that I hoped one day we could be friends but that I needed to get my shit together because I couldn’t give her what she needed. I wasn’t disrespectful. I didn’t call her out of her name.

She texted me the next day to say she was blocking my number. I responded with a simple ‘Have a nice life’ and blocked her back. I went through the motions in the days following; went from pissed off to sad, and then I was relieved.

It’s been over a week now and looking back over the short two month relationship, I realized that I was slowly turning into a person that I didn’t recognize. I was neglecting those close to me and losing my patience with so many others, because she was draining me. I was pouring more into her and her needs instead of looking at my own and in the end, that only hurt me rather than did any good.

So while my relationship did fail, I’m glad it did. I’m slowly finding my feet again and focusing on what’s most important, and that’s great.

I didn’t make this to bash her. She’s a great girl kind of and I hope she does find happiness, I hope she finds someone that can cater to her and give her what she needs. I was not that person, and she was not the person for me.

And that is okay.