Those Who Can’t Commit…Probably Won’t

Being in relationship after relationship, I continuously find myself with the same kind of guy- a commitment phobe. I cannot tell you how many blanket nests I slept in with men not committed enough to their own existence to own a proper bed. In more than enough instances I have been left wanting and wondering. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I had to look no further than my own friends, and my own previous relationships to shed light and insight into those unanswered questions that plagued my consciousness and unfulfilled heart.

It was only a year or so ago when I broke up with my ex-boyfriend, Tyge. We were together for four and a half years. Like most couples we talked about our future together- where we would live, how many kids we’d want, would we be spending Thanksgiving with his family and Christmas with mine? I was excited about the possibilities and was looking forward to our life together- until I came to realize that I was alone in my ruminations of a happily ever after. As I was naively planning our future together, Tyge was planning his future career move to Florida. Needless to say, things ended between us. Tyge was unsure of whether there was a future for us together and just wasn’t ready to settle down. I wanted more but I knew sadly, yet realistically, it had to be over. As much as we loved each other, it wasn’t enough. I’d like to say it came as a shock to me but I think that deep down, I knew it wasn’t meant to last. I was in love with the idea of love and was blinded by my desires to finally share that with someone that it almost didn’t matter that he didn’t feel the same.

Of course I was heartbroken. The thought of starting over was terrifying and something I wasn’t ready for. So instead of trying to find Mr. Right, I was on a mission trying to find Mr. Right now. I’d wildly chase any thread of intimacy, catching nothing besides a rapid unraveling of myself to fill the void. While dating I tried to convince myself that I was “not into monogamy”, but it was secretly what I longed for. Don’t get me wrong — I’ve been far from being alone all these years. If anything, I’ve had too many dates, too many boyfriends, and too little traction. But, not being alone is not the same as not being lonely, and I couldn’t help but want what most of my loved ones have- a stable relationship.

His name was Simon. I met him at a media event that one of my clients was hosting. He had light eyes, dirty blonde hair, and an Australian accent that made all the girls swoon. It was obvious that he was a first class debonair- handsome, intelligent, sophisticated, and maybe a tad bit arrogant. He piqued my curiosity and I wanted to know more so I left him with my business card and bid him adieu. What stunned me the next morning was when I woke up to a text from Simon sent last night hoping that I arrived home safely. Most guys would have coolly played by the “3-day rule” before picking up the phone. You can imagine my pleasant surprise to see that he didn’t wait even 24 hours to get my attention. I was definitely intrigued.

Soon enough we had scheduled our first date for the following week. We decided to meet at a tapas bar in Chelsea and Simon was just as handsome as I remembered. He had a perfectly coiffed ‘do and looked impeccably groomed wearing dark neat pants, a crisp fitted dress shirt, and shamelessly sporting that sexy 5 o’clock shadow. He was charming, funny, and quick witted. Our conversation flowed effortlessly and we never ran out of things to say. Before I knew it, we were back at his apartment sipping wine and talking till 3AM in the morning.
It wasn’t long till I saw I saw him again later that week. Two dates turned into four, and four turned to many more, until I found myself seeing him several times a week. We were texting each other every day just to see how each other’s day was going or to exchange some witty banter. All I wanted was to know more about him. All I wanted to do was to hang out with him. And every time I saw him, butterflies.

One late evening we were at his place, having another one of those all-nighter conversations and tangled within each other’s arms. One moment we were talking about relationships and the next he admitted he was a commitment phobe.

“I don’t like the idea of girlfriend-boyfriend labels. I want to feel like I still have my freedom,” Simon declared.

“In other words, you’re a commitment phobe,” I clarified. He didn’t argue with my view point.

His last relationship fucked him up, I mean like, really fucked him up. And because of his wretched past, the idea of commitment discouraged him from being in any sort of relationship. So what does that mean for us? I wasn’t looking for anything serious, at least not right now. But what will happen if we do get to that point and he’s still not looking for anything more than what we share right now? And then there was that unattainable idea that eluded and disappointed me for years- I wanted more. Like quitting any addiction, I’d had slip-ups with codependence and still found myself inexplicably drawn to the emotionally remote drifters of the world.

All of a sudden, I had a flashback of when I was with Tyge. After the breakup, I realized I didn’t want to make that same mistake again by being with someone who couldn’t be with me wholeheartedly. I was again overcome with disappointment and dismay to find myself in the exact same situation I had vowed to avoid over a year ago.

“Do you even want to be in a long term relationship? Not necessarily with me, but with someone eventually?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” he responded, “I promised myself that I wouldn’t jump into a long term relationship unless I knew it was right,” he said. But that promise was made six years ago after he broke up with his last girlfriend.

Jumping into any relationship isn’t easy. I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak, but hearing Simon’s sob story could make me see why it would be difficult for him to open up himself to someone else. When we love someone, we often feel more responsible for their feelings than for our own. It is most certainly a heavy burden to carry, and understandable why Simon would be afraid of committing to someone again. However, just because I was sympathetic to his situation did not mean I wasn’t pissed! I was pissed with myself for being foolish enough to think that something could further develop between us and that I let my feelings disillusion me once again. But ultimately, I was pissed at Simon because of his bullshit excuses. He liked the idea of getting all the perks of a relationship, yet didn’t want to be tied down to the responsibilities of one. Talk about having your cake and eating it too. He was using the “commitment phobe” card as a cop out, and one that I knew all too well. I wasn’t about to get caught up in the same trap I did before.

My jaw clenched as to prevent me from saying anything out of irrationality and rage, but it was written all of over my face for Simon to read. There’s nothing I hate more than appearing vulnerable to a guy and having to surrender to my raw emotions. When I’m emotionally uncomfortable, my mouth involuntarily spills my inner turmoil in a rapid fire, a succinct summary of my personality. I inadvertently spewed, “I think its bullshit that you’re a commitment phobe. Whatever excess baggage you had in the past, you have to get over it and grow the fuck up.”

I felt like four and half years of pent up aggression was unleashed and poor Simon received the worst of it. It was pure diarrhea of the mouth. I instantly felt like a bitch for judging his past. I could have certainly voiced my opinions in a less harsh and abrasive way, but just because I felt bad for saying it didn’t mean that I meant it any less. Thankfully, Simon took my words objectively and with little offense. To think, I found someone who was just as damaged as I was or maybe more so.

Simon and I are no longer seeing each other. His non-committal instincts took over and I never heard from him again. As cowardly as his actions were, I wasn’t surprised that it would end this way. However, during the short time we knew each other, I can’t deny that I genuinely enjoyed spending my time with him. Maybe I was setting myself up for disaster even though I knew about his non-committal ways. But being with Simon reminded me that love can be messy and, unfortunately, there can be no guarantees. But when it’s good, like heart-achingly, deliciously, painstakingly good? It’s really good. Boy, do I know. As disappointed as I am that things didn’t work out between us, I’ve only gained a tougher skin from it. And trust me; I certainly am still learning to love like my heart’s never been broken before.