Bittersweet Introspection

*This was written in September 2017. Almost 2 years ago. SO MUCH HAS CHANGED SINCE THEN. However this is still one of my favorites and one of the only older blogs I have so. Enjoy.*

I talk about past Dari and future Dari often, for this post past Dari is Dari from 2011ish-2016ish. Present Dari is basically Dari of 2017. Yes, all 2017.

This post is also about Air Force Dari and it's also about my ex-boyfriend. That's a lot to throw in one post, but that's how it's gotta be. It all goes together. I don't know if it's going to be more about the upgraded Dari or about my relationship, but they're so intricately intertwined that I can't talk about the latter without the former.

I've been in one relationship. It lasted 4 years. Then, he broke up with me. We even had a breakup dinner, we went and dined on delicious bread topped with honey butter and he told me we'd be both be better apart.  I teared up. I did that often though. The news wasn't completely out of the blue so I wasn't surprised, I mean we were at a breakup dinner. But this was it. This was the moment. No amount of delicious (they were so delicious) honey butter bread can diminish the pain that comes with the ending of a 4-year relationship. I mean, especially since now I can never enjoy honey butter carbs in the same way.

At the time of the dinner, we lived apart after previously living together in Georgia. I was still stationed in Georgia and he was back in Charlotte, where I'm from and where we'd met. (We met online because duh, that's where I've met most of the people I know even though we went to the same college at the same time and we were both art majors. ha.) We were doing the long distance, 'see you on my off days even though we don't have the same off days', thing. It was pretty wack. Not only was I in Georgia seemingly alone, doing a job I hated, but the person I liked the absolute most no longer lived there with me.

It wasn't until this year, that I realized just how drastically different I was then. Going through my old journals (I'll have a whole post about journals and journaling in the future) and reading what I wrote and reliving how I felt, for the first time I fully understand his reasoning for the breakup. I was depressed. I was actually depressed. I never owned up to it because surely I'm not depressed, I thought, "I don't have all the symptoms and I'm not suicidal and my boyfriend lives with me, and we even have a dog!" How could I possibly be depressed? I didn't feel it was right to call myself depressed. So I didn't. I was just sad sometimes. A lot of times. You know what that's called? Depression. *mind blown*

I only went through a few pages of one of my journals for the sake of this post but...there's a lot of passages similar to this one. And it's sad for me to read, but...GROWTH!

 I began seeing a psychiatrist that we both called "couch lady" (cause I'd go and sit on her couch. clever). I was on medication. The medication turned me into a zombie and obliterated my libido, even in a long distance relationship (no bueno). I got off the medication. She'd help me get to the root of my thoughts and what I'd been feeling and why, and we did a lot of Cognitive Behavior Therapy. What I could do and how I could change my thoughts and in turn change how I felt. I'd relay all my new helpful information back to my boyfriend who of course had been telling me some of the same. damn. things she was telling me. It sounds different coming from someone else though! Just like hearing stuff from another adult sounds better than when it comes from your parents. Plus she was like, a real doctor. (Sorry bruh.)

I didn't have any real motivation to do anything. I went to work and came home and ate and laid around. We lived together for a while and looking back now all I can do is apologize because I wasn't that great of a girlfriend really. He was so good to me and good for me but I was just....stuck. I wasn't bad at all. But I could've been so much better. I just didn't see it. I didn't see any of it while I was living it. He would always try to get me excited about doing things, learning how to play tennis or learning how to cook, but nothing really stuck. He tried to get me back into making Youtube videos because I loved to do it for years before. He'd bought me art supplies to try to get me to be creative again, he shared podcasts with me to make me feel better, he got me mood enhancers to boost my mood and I bought happy tea. We'd gone on trips and they were fun but they always ended with us going back to our respective states and me having to go back to work.

When I talk about being in the military and how it doesn't leave the best of tastes in my mouth, it helps to know all of this. Because by default, I automatically equate the military to my depression and my depression to the ultimate demise of my relationship. My relationship ended because I wasn't as good of a girlfriend or a partner as I could've been and to me, I wasn't that because of the military. Now I don't mean to place all the blame on it, but for me and for the reason I went in, my heart was never in it. I went in to get out. From the moment I signed on the line, I counted down the years and the months and the days until I'd be out. And it showed. It took a toll on my relationship and on my mental health, not 100% because of the job or the Air Force itself (but that definitely played a part too) but because of me and my own feelings about it.

A perfect example was my hair. I had to cut off my locs of almost 6 years to join. I knew I was going to have to do it, and at the time I was looking forward to a change and a new look but afterward, I don't think I ever reached a point where I truly loved my hair out. It was stressful. Trying to stay in regulation. Trying to embrace it. Trying different things and styles to feel good about myself.  Trying to get my hair from knotting on itself. It was more than I wanted to deal with every day.  I like locking my hair because it's what works for me, it's easy, I don't have to think about my hair when I go to sleep and I don't have to think about what I'm going to do with it when I wake up. I missed that. It was a look that fit me and I look that I missed. I've never been the most confident person in the world, but if I feel like I look good on the outside, then I feel good on the inside and the times I felt like I looked good on the outside with my hair how it was during the military, were few and far in between.

He'd actually tried to talk me out of joining the military. I'd made a list of the pros and cons of joining and he gave me alternatives. He didn't want me to go. I ignored his alternative suggestions and went in anyway because somehow my pros outweighed my cons on paper.  Somewhere down the line, he told me that he wished he tried harder to keep me from going (yikes), that he knew it wasn't me, (it wasn't) and that I wouldn't like it, (I didn't). But, what do you do when someone you love makes a decision you don't necessarily agree with? Do you cheer them on and support their own decision or do you try to talk them out of it because you don't think it's what's best for them? It's tough, no doubt, but had I not gone, I wouldn't be where I am now. I made the decision and I had to deal with it. It sucked. And it ultimately ended our relationship. My one and only relationship with the person I liked the most.

But had I not gone through all that, I wouldn't be where I am now.

People come into our lives and teach us things. Good things. Bad things. He taught me so much, about myself, about relationships and compromise, and about motivation. He taught me about Rubik's cubes, and outer space and how to peel garlic and cut an onion (ew).  And even though our relationship didn't continue, none of that will ever change. The good things I learned during those 4 years even though I was super blah for a lot of it, outweighed the bad. Although more recently, I've learned firsthand that sometimes you learn the other way around and the bad in a relationship or friendship heavily outweighs the good, but after it's all said and done you still get something from it.

We talked about everything, even when we disagreed, we never raised our voices at each other. Turns out, I'm a writer. As much as I don't like to admit it, this blog and the box of journals I have from my teenage years until now, I like to write my feelings. Whenever we'd get into a disagreement or a situation, we'd take our time apart and I'd write to him. I'd give him letters or I'd send him emails. I taught him how to communicate better and he taught me that I was greater than I was allowing myself to be. How many arguments take place because of a lack of communication or a misunderstanding? We aren't mind readers. He didn't know why I didn't want to go in the portapotty.  (Our first argument had to do with a portapotty, it always kept coming up in subsequent discussions too).  Sometimes you don't understand why someone is in a mood they're in or what you can do to make it better or what happened in the first place, but just telling someone how you feel helps. A lot. Only if the other person is willing to listen, though. We listened to each other, and we did it well. Even if we completely disagreed. If I ever find myself in another relationship, the communication has to be on point because the bar is already set really high from my last one.

He tried to get me to work out, go to the gym with him, play tennis and go running. I ran my first 1.5 miles when I was preparing for the Air Force. He pushed me and motivated me the whole way and I did it. I ran a whole 1.5 miles without stopping because he knew I could do it and assured me I wouldn't run out of breath and pass out. He believed in my talents and my abilities before I ever even believed in myself.

He bought me clothes and jewelry and I dabbled in makeup because we'd had a conversation about me never feeling beautiful before. I didn't think I looked like a troll or particularly undesirable, but beautiful was never an adjective I used to describe myself. Now I know that those things still aren't really what I feel the most "beautiful" in, but I do know that I don't automatically hate all the things I thought I hated before. (Sandals, shorts, lipstick etc) I was always so attracted to his confidence and I wanted some of it. He told me his secrets but I just chalked it up to that being who he is and that I can't be that because I'm not him.

The Dari I am now is the Dari he wanted me to be when we were together. Except now I'm single and he's in another relationship.

Life, amiright?

It's bittersweet on both sides and I don't know who it's worse for, the person who made the decision to finally break it off to set the other person free and figure things out on their own, or the person who catapulted themselves into an upgraded ALL 2017 version of themselves and finally realized everything that was being said to her all those years.

It took me a while to get over it, it wasn't a bad breakup so even though I didn't understand why he did it at the time, I still didn't hate him or anything for it, I was just sad. Really sad. I didn't get why he wanted to break up with me if he loved me and thought I was great. But I wasn't really great then. Not like I am now.

But, like, it was so good. Even the bad, looking back, was so good. For me and for him and for us. Because lately I really, truly feel like a different person, but the same person. An upgraded version of myself and I owe a lot of that to him. Not because he's responsible everything I am right now, but to be honest, he jumpstarted a lot of it.

He would always talk to me about getting better, having hobbies to get better at, to live more out loud because time is precious and we could die tomorrow and now, I echo those same things he said. I travel.  I'm making art and honing my talents. He practically used to have to beg me to go to the gym with him. He knew I didn't like it but he loved spending time with me, and he liked to go to the gym so he suggested we go together because going with each other would be better than going alone. He was right, but I still wasn't thrilled about it. He tried to hype me up and get me pumped for it and I most of the time,  I wasn't having it. Now I go to the gym and look up recipes to make on my own.

I wasn't a terrible girlfriend by any means, but I wasn't in the best of places. I wasn't the best Dari. He knew I couldn't be the best Dari being with him, so he let me know. I was sad and angry but.... I'm the best Dari I've ever been, right now because of it. Alone yes, with no bae and no dog, but not lonely. only sometimes.

He's a great person. We're still friends, we still exchange songs and artists we think the other would like. We share dope tattoos and ideas and keep each other in the loop. Just because our relationship ended, our friendship didn't. Although our friendship isn't the same as it was prior to us dating, because of proximity and new boos, barring something ridiculously out of character or devastating happening to one of us, I don't see why we wouldn't remain friends for a long time. I mean, we do kinda have a dog together and just because we aren't together anymore doesn't mean we can't appreciate a good beagle puppy video.

New Dari, 2017 Dari, Upgraded Dari, is great and I feel great but, the seeds of so much of this was planted by him. He knew I could be this person years before I did and I thought he was just expecting me to be someone I really wasn't. The main reason we broke up is so that he could let me be the person he knew I could be. He wanted me to spread my wings and fly. And for a long time, I didn't understand that. And now I AM that, I get it. I'm flying.

So it wasn't bad. It was bittersweet. It's still so bittersweet. It will always be bittersweet. But whenever I find myself daydreaming and asking myself questions like "What if I never joined the military?" or "What if he stuck it out until I was released back into the civilian world and felt better?" or "What would've happened if I moved back to Charlotte instead of moving to Richmond?" There's no way for me to even imagine that scenario because I am who I am now because I did join the military and because he did break up with me over yummy bread and because I did move here and because I am single making my own decisions for me and doing what I want.

When I was in a long distance relationship I wanted to travel and I wanted to see him, I wouldn't have traveled on my own because I used that time off work for us be together. Without work and without him it catapulted me into an exploration phase. Yes, I'll go to Jamaica by myself because who else am I going to go with? Yes, I'll go to Germany to meet a stranger because why not? Spend my birthday in Brazil with strangers? I'm there.

It all ties together and it more than likely wouldn't have been possible without that breakup.

He would encourage me to draw and to find out what I liked etc, I would draw things or make things every now and then as a way to appease him and show him that I did like art! and I was an artist! that made things! but even though I wasn't doing these things just for him, I did feel like a big part of me was doing it just to let him know that I did it so that I could prove that I was fun and an artist. This same thinking and scenario happened multiple times over a host of topics and subjects and activities.

But now, if you've been keeping up with what I've been up to the past three weeks or so, I can't stop painting. It's all I want to do, and I'm doing it. On my own. 

So as I was getting this all together, (I told him I was writing it), I asked him one question. "What was the most frustrating part about our relationship?"

His answer? "The fact that I couldn't help you."

*clutches chest in despair*

But he did help me, so much. I'll love him forever for that.

Yeah, our timing was off, but the result of just how much that relationship impacted me is evident in many parts of my life and I'm so appreciative of it.

Not all breakups are bad. Was I sad? Yeah. For a long time. I still get sad about it every now and then. And then I get more sad because I'm still  not "over it". But before I just thought he just secretly hated my guts and didn't understand the true inner workings of a real Dari, when really, he did. He saw more in me than I saw in myself and I still don't know how, but I'm glad he did.