I’ll never forget that night. It was almost midnight and I knew there was no way I was getting to sleep anytime soon. I’d gotten off a call with the guy I’d been talking to most nights recently. And my hands were shaking. My head was full of helium, floating so high it was in danger of disconnecting from my spine. And the butterflies. I’d never felt those before. I was crackling with energy. And I thought I was in love.
I wasn’t. Though it would take me a long time to realize it. And the guy who inspired all of this? Never even realized what he was doing to me. Now, in his defense, we lived 16 hours apart. Our only interaction was on the hours long phone calls we had at night. That first month, I tallied up 30 hours worth of phone conversation. Add to that the occasional text message or private Discord message. I was in so deep I no longer knew which way was up.
The initial burst didn’t last, however. Soon, the daily calls became weekly. Text messages would go unanswered for days at a time. And my mood swayed precipitously at the edge of a cliff.
The euphoria that filled me every time his specially selected ringtone emanated from my phone. Every notification alert. I don’t know that anyone could manufacture a drug that could replicate that feeling. But then there were the long days of nothing. No text messages. No calls. I questioned what I’d done wrong. What I’d said that had offended. And then he would text and I would be sky high again.
We talked about everything. No topic was off the table. Except my feelings for him. Oh, he knew a little. But not the depths that I had fallen. I told him things that I’d never told anyone. And he shared things with me he claimed never to have shared before. We worked so well together. Perfectly fitted.
And then my world came crashing down. He called me one afternoon. He wanted to talk to someone but he was worried what he had to say might hurt me. I told him I could handle it. He spent the next two hours telling me about the woman he’d been sleeping with for the past week (when he hadn’t been responding to my texts).
I never for a second let on that I was dying inside. After we hung up, I crawled into bed and lost myself to the emotions roiling within me. I was barely even aware of what was going on the next day, but I made it through the work day, ate a giant bowl of ice cream, put on some music and stared up at the ceiling for hours.
And then I was fine. Oh, I got the occasional pang now and again for a few months. But I had reflected and realized that everything I had been feeling was entirely on my end. Don’t get me wrong, the guy absolutely love bombed me at the start. But I don’t think he did it maliciously. However, knowing that it was all in my head, that I had misread the signs, was somehow freeing. I was no longer on the emotional rollercoaster.
I learned a valuable lesson from it all. One that has served me well since. Infatuation feels amazing in the moment. It’s the greatest drug nature ever produced. But the crash will come. And it will attempt to destroy you. For better or worse, I hold the butterflies at bay until I know they’ve been earned.
Oh, and the guy? We’re still friends to this day. And he still has no idea how hard I fell for him.
Stay safe out there!
