“It was love at first sound” is a short story about deciding between a toxic marriage 🤢 and someone who is ready to give her all ❤️.
My sibling and I spent an hour on the telephone earlier today; a large portion of it was consumed by my depictions of the man I’ve been seeing. Seeing would be a rather inappropriate word. Maybe, someone, I’ve been talking to. He’s energetic. Sympathetic. Dedicated. Approaching, with his sentiments. Patient. Interesting. Positive. And almost all things are too good to be true.
“I like this person,” my sibling answered. “When do we get to meet him?”
“…some-time after I do?” I said.
I offered this response in my mind, not without holding back, in light of the fact that reality felt humiliating: I was falling for somebody I had never met. Also, when I say “falling,” I imply that we’ve had a mere couple of video chats and are contemplating further moves.
“You look like a SoBo girl. And you look hot.” He smiled across the screen, hinting how he believed I was the elite type. I was running late to a party, so I hung up to call him later. I realised I was still blushing in the mirror.
We were totally into each other — it was platonic, but that didn’t change anything. We called each other “bubz” and told each other everything about our day. However, we weren’t in a relationship and didn’t want to define what we had.
Oh! And certainly, we did have a line that neither of us was willing to cross.
“You’re no good at this. You can’t do anything right,” or “You’re not doing this or going here,” were often thrown in as casual statements at me. He would disrespect me, as much as disregard my needs and wants like I was just a commodity that lay on the floor for him to trample and tear, or break.
I’ve been on and off as much as stuck in a toxic marriage for well over two years now, and I would in general keep a couple of plates spinning, as it were.
I’ve never wanted to cheat on my partner I was committed to, so I decided I would never meet my new-found “love at first sound” because, obviously, it would question my loyalty. And I am not a dishonest person.
There were two kinds of forces pulling me in two different directions. These two people were doing things to me that were exactly the opposite. There was one person who was breaking me every day, and there was the other who was filling my heart with all the love and respect I deserved.
Obviously, I was seeking respect, love, and honesty, and I was getting it. And as hard as it is to admit, I was enjoying the attention too.
Three weeks into associating with him, I was denying the fact that we had anything greater than a friendship so I could stay loyal to my partner.
“Either it’s a one-night stand or a marriage, this casual chat never works for me.” “I see you as someone I could engage with seriously,” he said. He had expressed that this talking was just not enough and he wanted more, but also, he respected my ethics and, therefore, he maintained that we shouldn’t meet either.
It would be safe to say that the poems he wrote for me would be etched in my heart forever because they weren’t pieces of woven words, but pieces of his heart.
So, three cheers for our straightforwardness, trustworthiness, and consideration to treat each other number one. But I was always the one who went with the flow, considering there was no future for the both of us, and frankly, very easygoing about it.
He, on the other hand, was frustrated because he could not leave me nor have all of me to himself. I could feel it!
I could feel I wasn’t doing the right thing by being around.
I was also being selfish, but I liked talking to him.
One day, as inevitable as it was, we admitted our feelings.
And that was the end of us.
People are permanently set up to be social. Finding comfort in a person, explicitly, sets off a piece of the mind and delivers oxytocin, known as the affection chemical. Sharing with people we love diminishes feelings of anxiety and makes us feel secure. How odd it is to see that what ordinarily keeps us sound is what could hurt us the most.
We follow each other on Instagram. I can’t say, however, that his posts appear on my feed frequently, nor do I know when I began looking all the more deliberately at his record, advising myself regarding his goings-on. The subtleties are foggy; perhaps this is because it was generally natural to such an extent that I can’t exactly recall the day things stepped up or down so soon but stayed around.
It recently streamed in a way I haven’t encountered since maybe the relationship in my late 20s. Simply contemplating whether I should have made an effort to make him stay makes me as invigorated as a pre-high schooler preparing for her most memorable kiss.
But we’re grown-ups. I am familiar with his cravings, concerns, and family history; some are great, and some are not so great. Maybe the silver lining for a significant number of us is that perhaps this has been a particular chance to love our lives again. I had failed to remember what loving that sentiment could feel like. Through this romance — extraordinary, sped up, but sans any actual touch — I’ve been helped to remember that I had fallen in love at the first sound, the first very sound of this classic, talented, loveable, humble man.
It was love at first sound!
It was love at first sound!!