Fall/ing for Isaac


It’s finally fall. And as cheesy as it sounds, as the season changes the questions in my life are falling into place, or falling apart. And I’m falling for Isaac.

Here’s how I knew my feelings got real: last weekend when I was home I told my mom about him. Isaac and I have been hanging out since August, (maybe late July?) but I never mentioned him because I was keeping my distance. But suddenly last weekend I found myself describing him to my mom. She sounded both impressed and relieved. “I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I pray every night that you’ll end up with a guy.” I sighed. She gave me a guilty look, “I just…my head tells me it doesn’t matter if you end up with a girl or guy, but my emotions…” “I know, Mom.” It wasn’t a surprising thing for her to say. “You’ve been really really great about all of this,” I assured her. “It’s okay that you feel that way; after all, you’re a product of your generation.” It’s conversations like this that remind me why my mom is one of my best friends; she’s always so honest and speaks to me like I’m a person, and not just “daughter”. “So,” she said, “tell me about this guy.” I felt myself get this really goofy smile on my face. And I told her.

Isaac isn’t my boyfriend, but in a way he might as well be. I feel so safe and content in his arms, and find talking to him easier and easier. I laugh all the time, and he always surprises me. Sometimes he gets embarrassed to tell me things because he’s worried what I might think, and it’s pretty adorable. And he’s not afraid to tease or bicker with me. I find myself thinking about him in classes and wondering what he’s doing, and at night I wish he was sleeping next to me. It’s pretty sappy.

But, in another way, Isaac isn’t my boyfriend. I still haven’t had the I-struggle-with-depression conversation with him, and I find it scary (but also exciting) when he shows me that he cares about me. Yesterday we had a conversation about dependence. “It’s just not something I like about myself,” I told him. He started to get frustrated. “I don’t see how you can say that; that’s part of getting to know someone and being with them. I mean…I like being dependent on people. I always feel like I’m dependent on the people I sleep with, unless it’s some sort of one-night situation where they just leave afterword. I mean, that’s just a part of sex.” “It doesn’t have to be,” I said. “But what’s the point if you can’t be dependent on them?” he asked. “What’s so wrong with being dependent?” I paused for a really long time, thinking about how I felt after sex with Fred. I would curl up next to him and thank God or whoever for letting him exist. I thought he was my soulmate—he was closer to my heart and soul than anyone else. I would have done anything for him…take a bullet for him, give him everything I had, including the rest of my life. I felt the tears building up in my eyes, and even let a couple slip down my cheeks. “You don’t have to answer that,” Isaac told me. I held him closer, and felt him snuggle closer to me as well. I want to let you all the way in, I thought, but I’m scared you’re going to hurt me. I don’t think I could take it if you broke my heart.

Even though I don’t want Fred or my ex-girlfriend anymore, and have let them leave my life, I still feel the repercussions my relationship with them. I don’t think I would be as fine as I feel if I stopped taking my prozac, and that worries me. As the weather gets colder, the risk of being depressed once again gets higher, and it becomes harder for me to stay positive. But I’m trying. Right now my big focus is to start acting like an adult, and think with my head instead of letting my heart be impulsive. So I’m taking it slow with Isaac. It’s good that we haven’t defined our relationship, even if we are exclusive. Relationships don’t fix fear, so I’ve got to give myself time before I can let myself become too dependent.

I’m only willing to let myself fall so hard…


About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 10/04/2015, in All That "Love" Crap and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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