Joe and I were happily dating and it had been about 6 months. He had gone off to China for a few weeks and I had sent with him a hilarious 5 or 6-month anniversary card that he had strict orders not to open until the actual day, which he did. Apparently some Chinese people had found it hilarious to see a brown tourist in China, on his own, reading a crazy card covered in pictures, so they asked to take a picture with him. We wrote to each other and exchanged the letters once he was back. It was everything that the first 6 months of a relationship should be and I was incredibly happy! :)
We were having a chat about our dream homes, one afternoon. This led to dream jobs, dream futures, etc. At the time, we both had different ideas of what we were looking for but could find common ground. We talked for hours. We were well into the evening, had consumed a pizza, some dessert and were still talking about ideals and how we were going to achieve everything we ever wanted. But then, out of the blue, Joe says... "Well, it seems as though we are trying to achieve different things". "Sure, but everyone has different visions of their future - the size of one's house or whether or our future is going to turn out exactly as we describe it now isn't the end of the world...things change and we'll see how things go", I said. "No," he answered, "I just think we're headed in different directions and so perhaps we need to think about that". Okay, I thought.
We sat in silence for awhile. He spoke first and suggested that maybe we split up. Since the summer was there and neither of us were sure of how things would work out, maybe it was easier to break up now than later. After all, he was Muslim and I was Hindu and although that didn't stop us from falling in love and getting to this point, maybe we should try and stop it before it becomes more chaotic...since we don't envision the exact same future anyway, it might just be easier.
I didn't really know what to think. It sort of made logical sense. And that was it.
I went home the next day and took a bath...and I blasted the stereo to try and muffle the noise of me bawling over the first man I had dated, the first mad I'd kissed, the first man I'd held hands with, and the first man that I had loved.
We spoke intermittently that summer. I didn't know how to deal with a breakup, so I called him more often than I should have. I missed our friendship more than anything else. He eventually wrote me an email to say that I likely wouldn't like the guy that he was going to be in his last year. He had been elected as the President of his fraternity. He was going to be living at the frat house and just wanted to spend the year partying. (Lightbulb...AHHHHH...so this is why he wanted to break up with me.)
I let him go as much as I could. The year went by and there were days where we hung out and others when we avoided each other. It was tough because I had developed strong friendships with many of his fraternity brothers. We fought a lot over the year as he would mistreat me and I would try to maintain my dignity and not fall for him again. But, when we had news to share, somehow we always found each other to share it with first. The love between us had never really faded, though each of us fought it. He fought harder than I did. I got an interview with one of the top marketing firms in the world and he was the first to find out. He got a fantastic job upon graduating and he ran down the corridor to catch me before I disappeared to tell me, even though we weren't really on speaking terms at the time. We knew we couldn't be together. He tried to cover up the feelings he had for me by hanging out with other people and dismissing me. My mistake was likely that I never hid that I missed him. He dated other people, I didn't.
It was chaotic. It was a mess. We had broken up for the wrong reasons and neither of us had gotten closure out of it. He moved to the US where his job was and I started my internship at the marketing firm. We barely spoke.
The following year at school (my last year, while he was working in the US), he was only able to visit home once or twice. We had written to each other a few times and they were long emails that explained that I deserved to be treated better. He agreed. I don't recall what else was involved in the exchanges but it did lead to us agreeing to meet up.
Joe was scheduled to come over after his frat meeting. The meeting ran late. No problem. By midnight, I was exhausted and needed sleep before my 830am class. No sign of Joe. At 230am, there was a knock at my door. Joe was there. "Where have you been?!", I asked. "We went out for beer and wings after the meeting", he replied with no sign of remorse. I deserved better. It's how I had been treated the entire year prior, and nothing had changed.
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