The Merits of Tumultuous Love
It was a Thursday evening in early March. Cedric and I grabbed dinner in a back patio restaurant where instead of assigning numbers to tables, they handed out cute little illustrations of random stuff. I either picked “naps” or “hats,” not really sure now. Then, we bar hopped for awhile as I dived straight into my dicey, sort of off-limits questions like “how much money do you make?” or “have you ever been in love?” Maybe Cedric was being just a tad nervous that he spilled whiskey on my burgundy jumpsuit.
We ended up at his place, stirred up some rusty old fashioneds and went to chill in his backyard. For a New Yorker like me, there’s something incredibly pure and salubrious about lighting up a fire in a backyard fire pit, lying down on a hammock and gazing at the vast Texas sky on a pleasantly chilly weeknight. Time seemed to pass in slow motion. We talked about our jobs, our families, our entering-adulthood phase and whatever else was brewing in our minds while we cozied up under a wool blanket.
I first met Cedric in the before times but this was only our fourth or fifth date. Later when we got to bed, he said I could cuddle him if I like, which to me is just code for “can you please be the big spoon?” I told him I had freezing cold hands and feet due to poor circulation. He said, “well you could be my personal AC and I’d be your personal heater.” So yeah I was the big spoon, you’re welcome.
A couple days later, I returned home to New York where I’ve been dating Augustine — on and off — for a little over two years.
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Augustine and I were the kind of incandescent love that felt so effortless and natural. One time he was flying back to New York from a family reunion in Kansas when I sent him a Maren Morris song called “Make Out With Me.” The lyrics told the story of a woman wishing that her man would “text when you touch down, straight to my place now,” so they could be together as soon as possible. And so he did, hailing a ride from Newark to my Sunnyside apartment at 3am.
Augustine and I dated exclusively during the first year of the pandemic, so you can imagine how quickly our relationship blossomed. We were only seeing each other in the house, doing domestic things like cooking phở and whipping up Dalgona coffee by hand, or reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah aloud to each other before bed. The lockdown also meant that we spent most of our time together talking our hearts out and making passionate love, getting to know what we liked and didn’t like on every level imaginable.
Quite early on we picked February 29th as our anniversary not only because our love felt so special like a leap day, but also because Augustine realized he wanted me to be his girlfriend shortly after a couple of lengthy, intense dates.
Two weeks after our first anniversary, I was shattered when Augustine said his feelings for me had changed — he didn’t want to be exclusive anymore. But since we still loved each other so much, our relationship became something else that didn’t fit neatly into any dating concepts that many of my friends would approve.
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First of all, let me be clear, I’m still a monogamous lover at the core, but if the past year and a half has shown me anything, it’s that I shouldn’t just subscribe to societal norms about what a meaningful connection could look like.
After my relationship with Augustine sort of…opened up, for months we couldn’t figure out a way to describe what we were. It’s not exactly a polyamorous affair because the assumption there would be: we’re each other’s primary partners and we would need to inform everyone we date about our status. It’s not exactly an open relationship either, because we aren’t just looking to hook up with other people — if we do click with someone emotionally or intellectually, we might pursue that too. It’s not completely ethical non-monogamy, either, since I feel strongly that I’m single. We finally decided that it was best to not put a label on our relationship, but if anyone insists, then we’re each other’s best friends.
If you know me, you know that I swore off the dating apps a long time ago after the Corey debacle (which btw, turned out to be even more horrifying because I later learned that he was legally married and going through a divorce while we were dating). I wasn’t going to seek out new love on the internet. I was going to count on people approaching me on the streets or texting the wrong number :P
The moment I was single again, I reached out to see what was up with Cedric and found out that he had moved away to Austin.
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Here’s a fun fact that might or might not make my story worthy of a screen adaptation.
I met Cedric and Augustine on the-same-freaking night, at the-same-freaking place in the Lower East Side. They both have two brothers, have the same occupation and guess what, share the same notorious zodiac sign. Ahhhhh!
That night, Augustine asked me to come back to his place and I politely declined while Cedric was the only person I gave my number to. I later went on dates with both, hoping to see which one would pan out first. The day Cedric asked me out on a third date, Augustine asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes. (Good luck piecing together the chronology for all this, detectives.)
Anyway, the bottom line is, here I am, two and a half years later, dating the two of them, at the same time, again. Committed to neither but having strong feelings for both.
It’s astonishing how life has its own way of turning things around, teaching you that only time will unravel what’s supposed to be. I now see Augustine every week because we’re physically close and enjoy each other’s company very much. In the meantime, Cedric and I communicate through snail mail once a month or so. It doesn’t make sense to text or call due to the geographical distance but isn’t it so refreshing to maintain a low-key, old school correspondence in this age of instantaneity?
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A year and a half ago I never would have believed what I’m feeling right now would be possible. When I realized I caught feels for Cedric earlier this year, a novel sensation began running down my spine: I’m falling for more than one person at a time! What’s more is the fact that neither situation is stable in a conventional sense.
Anyone in the logical mind would’ve probably left Augustine when he said he couldn’t give me what I wanted at the time. In fact, my 2019 self surely would’ve let go. Why would I continue latching onto someone who doesn’t want me and me only? I know my worth and I deserve so much better, as they say. I loved Augustine deeply but he was holding me like water in his hands, so why am I still here? I guess to me love isn’t bright and shiny. In my book, love is irrational, lawless and vexing.
And with Cedric, I honestly don’t even know 100% where he stands emotionally because he’s a private person and has his guard up whenever I dare to broach the topic of, hmm, you know. We also live far away so there’s no promise of any commitment, plus I know that he doesn’t want to be tied down because he truly is comfortable on his own, producing his music, playing the drums and many other instruments that somehow all fit in his bedroom. He’s also never asked about my current dating life, so either ignorance is bliss and he wants to avoid opening a Pandora’s box of dramatic dating stories, or to him, such information is unnecessary because we’re not going to be anything anytime soon.
Love isn’t bright and shiny. In my book, love is irrational, lawless and vexing.
I’m excruciatingly aware of my tendency to gravitate toward trouble yet I can’t shake this nagging feeling that I might end up alone if I keep falling for the same type of people. The emotionally unavailable type, the difficult-to-please type, the lying type, the I-don’t-know-what-I-want-in-life-yet type, or the I-just-want-keep-you-around-for-now type. There’s a reason why my favorite emo karaoke song is Lorde’s “Liability.” I do feel every single word of it, the pain of being brave enough to let someone in, show them the skeletons in my closet, just to get hurt over and over again.
I know I’m a handful but am I really too much for anybody to want to get to know the real me? To love me? And to stay? Why is it that I constantly feel the need to contain my enthusiasm and tone down on affection when I’m with someone, because I’m afraid that once I lavish them with so much love, they would pull away?
I’ve been dating since I was 15, and my first relationship even lasted for 17 months. When you’ve been dating for more than a decade and keep getting hurt, you really begin to question, “when will it work out?” The right person, in the right place, at the right time. I’ve never had it all.
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Some people collect stamps, coins or dolls. Others collect snow globes and Pokémon cards. I, on the other hand, collect heartbreaks.
Perhaps I choose to be in complicated situationships because a complicated love affair is better than no love at all. Perhaps it invigorates my masochistic self when I’m struggling rather than when I’m not.
Perhaps I’ve spent enough time crying my eyes out and losing sleep over what to do that I finally went ahead and do whatever the hell I want, instead of being bound by people’s expectations that love should be all or nothing, or that love should be with one or no one.
Perhaps along the way I found out that I am, too, *not* ready to be in a committed relationship because right now I want to focus on building my career and strengthening my friendships. At the end of the day, they’re the ones who keep my sanity intact.
Perhaps it’s the intriguing thrill of the unknown that propels me toward new prospects. If Augustine never brought up his true feelings of not wanting to be in a monogamous relationship, I never would’ve had the opportunity to explore my relationship with Cedric. Why write about culture and politics for a 165-year-old American magazine when I can write about municipal bonds for a niche publication? *insert evil laugh*
Perhaps having gone on dates with people other Augustine and Cedric the past few months made me realize how rare chemistry is, and that I should cherish it whenever it’s found. I started talking to this dude, Angel, who mistakenly texted me and got my attention because he said sorry with a funny Homer Simpson back inside the bush GIF. He then suggested that we meet at this super family-friendly eatery where kids were running around and drinks were terrible, just to brag about how rich he was. Another one I’d call Shake told me I had such an animated face for “someone from my region” aka East Asia and that he didn’t know my facial muscles could be so…expansive (?!). Shake then had the audacity to ask if we should kiss and I gave him the firmest no, ever.
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No matter what happens, I know that deep down in my heart, I want both Cedric and Augustine to be in my life for a long time. And of course, I’d still love to end up with a monogamous partner one day.
For now, though, I will keep loving and giving but not yet falling, just lingering at the edge of this cliff a tiny bit longer.
~All the names have been changed to preserve the anonymity of the people mentioned, but every single detail or emotion in this post is real~
