I need you to do something for me. Are you listening? Good; thank you.
I need you to understand that I have an issue with commitment. I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to do. I need you to know that the following statement was made about me by someone the same age as me who has supposedly known me for a long time: “I’m not judging you for being young and not wanting to commit, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too…” and that person knows about my struggles to relate to people, men specifically, and why, and yet has essentially called me a slut. I’m not a slut. Please – know that for a fact. And know my issues with commitment are not because I feel like running around screwing guys because it’s somehow maliciously fun for me to do.
Admittedly, I’ve done that. And that person knows why I did that. Even if for her own purposes she pretends she doesn’t. It’s because I was brokenhearted. And sometimes brokenhearted people need… something. They need to forget. They need to see what else is out there, even for a night or for 5-10 minutes on a dance floor at some bar, just so they can pretend for that one evening that they’re desirable and loved. There was a time in my life when I did this a lot and it was fun and meaningless but in the end, damaging because I forgot myself. I’ve since reclaimed myself and while I don’t regret any of my actions, I’ve learned from them, or tried to, in any way I could. But I’ve done things, even now, that I’m not proud of, and I’m not brokenhearted. And I have a hard time committing. Why do I do this? You’re probably wondering (or maybe you really don’t care) but the reason is actually because, I’m afraid.
There’s safety in being single. Because you can only hurt yourself and you can do whatever you want, and you don’t need to consider how your actions and your moods and your life is going to affect someone else. And also, you won’t get hurt. You won’t fall in love and then have to be taken aside at a coffee shop following a heart-shattering Facebook message, and then have to listen to someone you loved more than anyone on earth give you a high five – a high five – and then tell you to your face that they don’t want you. And honestly, there’s safety in familiarity and to be honest, being single is all I know. It’s really tough to make an adjustment in your life. It’s tough to know how it will feel to actually let someone love you, and to give them as much of yourself as possible in return. I can’t do that. I’m like a small child and I can only look out for me and my capacity of love, I think, is not as great as it could be, or should be, or I want it to be. And I do want it to be, because you’re worth it.
What you give me is something that nobody else on earth can give me and whether that’s something I need for the rest of my life or not is irrelevant. But understand that makes me nervous because I don’t want to explain this and then be penalized and then have it disappear forever. This is why I don’t want to commit. It’s not because I’m young. It’s because I’m terrified.