I’ve always been the kind of girl to never fully commit. My mindset was that there was always something better so don’t commit to anything unless you won’t find anything better. Granted, I’m young, I’ve had a handful of relationships, but for as far back as I can remember, I’ve always been an inbetween-er.

“Can’t we be together without being together?” was my standard line. “Why does everyone need to know about our private life?”, and “Let’s just be casual” was working as excuses for each non-relationship I ever had. I was a human yo-yo. I’d say one thing and do another. As an in between-er I gave the full impression of a relationship without actually being in one. I was too scared to commit because I didn’t want to hurt anyone when I got bored and found something different (which ALWAYS happened).

I’d give gifts and accept them. Go on dates, vacations, car make out sessions, and hangout with his friends. It was all so ordinary. “Why couldn’t things be simple?” I thought.

Then, if I wanted a clean break, I always played the “we were never officially together” card. Bitch move, right?

I was so scared of getting hurt, I found myself settling. I would date and spend time with any guy in my life who took interest in me romantically. I just couldn’t accept the fact that I wasn’t physically attracted to any of them. I kept pushing myself in deeper and further in, hoping the closer we got, the more I learn to grow an attraction to them and want a committed relationship. As much as I tried, I never wanted them as much as they wanted me. 

I ruined it. Every time. I had the most wonderful men in my life at some point or another but couldn’t fully give back what they were giving to me. I wasn’t ready to settle. I felt like some of my actions were more out of obligation than desire, I just wanted to do what was right by them… without actually doing the right thing.

Then I met him. He didn’t bore me. He annoyed me. He was your college guy/football player type. I’m the artsy hippie type. It felt like a match made in She’s All That. He was persistent. Each time I’d shove him away he would come back. And this time, it’s not because I pulled him back with my inbetween-er tricks. He legitimately did not give up. His perseverance finally paid off when we started spending time together regularly. 

The last thing I expected as an inbetween-er was to fall for someone, and want the commitment I had always feared. He was fun, and he didn’t kiss my ass. He called me out on all my flaws, making me a stronger person. He just dug himself deeper and deeper into my life.

Three months into it, I realized I was no longer an inbetween-er. I wanted the hand holding, the dating, the cute Facebook pictures. I wanted a relationship. The kind I always rolled my eyes at in romantic comedies, the kind with PDA that made me look away, the waking up in someone’s arms regularly and most of all, being happy. I never believed I’d be the kind of person who would want all the fluffy love things and emotions that came with a relationship, so I fought it hard. However, that didn’t work. He wanted me in his life and I wanted him in mine. How terrifying.

So we continued forward, and two more months went by and I finally said it. I told him I want something more. I want to introduce him as my boyfriend and I wanted to have the kind of trusting relationship that would allow us to have our individual lives and together lives.

But as we all know, you don’t always get what you want. See, he was an inbetween-er too. I knew this… but he kept saying I was different and how he’d never felt this way before. If I was different, why couldn’t he be different for me? He held my hand, we went on dates, he met my parents and I met his, he met every single one of my friends and traveled with me. We went on road trips all over California, we had sleepovers at least four or five times a week. I began to slip to everyone that he was my boyfriend.

I was hoping he had slipped too, but he didn’t. He told people we were talking, this is what I remembered people saying in high school when they were texting someone new. Except we weren’t in high school and, we were five months and had only been seeing each other exclusively.

I’d ask him why, I’d have tears in my eyes and question why he didn’t want me like I wanted him. His only response was “We already act like we are in a relationship, what’s the difference?” This may sound like a decent response from a male perspective, but it broke my heart. What’s the difference of putting a title on it? Instantly, I thought of myself. I was once that girl. And now, I was on the other side thinking, what’s so hard about having a title? And then I knew, Obligations.

He wanted the same freedom I had once wanted. Free of mandatory obligations, wanting it all without actually having it all.

All of his friends and mine wanted to double date and do fun couple things. But I always had a fake smile on my face because I knew that we weren’t a couple. I then knew, if he didn’t want me at this stage, he would never want me. I kept putting this thought at the back of my mind. And here we were, eight months in and I realized I owed it to myself not to dig myself into a deeper hole of love and infatuation.

Getting rid of something you really want is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. Maybe I deserved to fall head over heels and then have to give it up. I mean I had done to several people prior, right?

Well.. let me just say one last thing, Karma’s a bitch.