The Modern Break-Up

by Daniel Chidiac

Weird things happen to me when I’m faced with a guy I’m really attracted to. I feel like I have to prove that I’m not desperate. I’ll control how many times I text him and analyze my actions. Usually it’s not really anything they do that makes my behavior change; it’s me. I get nervous. I almost always do something that makes me look like a psycho. And sometimes, because I know I’m going to screw it up, I stop communication before I can.

“Well, to explain, I just think age doesn’t matter right now, especially because it’s so early in getting to know each other. Sometimes knowing someone’s age too quickly creates unnecessary judgment. I prefer to get to know you, the person. I’ve personally met twenty-three-year-old women and thirty-five-year-old little girls, if you get my drift.”

more. I think a lot of the misunderstanding in the modern dating scene comes from not communicating properly. We don’t speak; we don’t even try to understand each other. And I’m not ignorant. I know I will never understand some people, but in general, there are answers out there when it comes to why men act the way they do.

“I feel like I’m too extreme. I don’t think I’m cut out to be with someone. I either love them too much or I just don’t care. It’s always one way or the other. Maybe I should’ve been less available to him. I should’ve made it harder for him to get my time.”

Being compatible with someone isn’t always about the obsessive feeling I initially get; I realize that now. It isn’t always waiting for their text, wondering what they’re doing all the time, or chasing because they’re running. That’s not being genuinely interested in who they are; that’s being fixated on trying to force an energy to sync when it doesn’t.

When it comes to dating, I seem to be going in a circle. The ones I want don’t want me, and the ones who want me, I don’t want. It’s the same scenario over and over again. I feel like two people never remain on the same level these days—their “wants” change so rapidly. I’ve tried to look at it positively, but when you keep putting your heart out there and nothing comes of it, it’s a little hard.

There was a time when I invested all I had in someone. I loved everything about her. I loved the shape of her body. I loved her small hands against mine, the way her lips moved when she spoke, how her eyebrows scrunched when she was angry, the way she smelled, the way she held me. Any imperfections she had, I loved them too. I never took advantage of her vulnerability or wanted her to feel insecure with me. I did everything I could to ease her pain, to support her, to care for her. But in the end, no matter how much I did for her, it wasn’t enough.