Almost, almost but not quite or not yet, or maybe someday in the future, or maybe not at all. Almost is the crutch in modern dating, I fail to believe my grandparents ever experienced an ‘almost’ state of being. Almost is grey, murky, undefined, without boundaries or commitment but fully plagued with expectations and disappointment; the two rotating on some kind of fucked up axis where you don’t ever talk about where you stand but hate the thought of each other getting attention elsewhere.
And almost is not dating, almost is not ‘seeing each other’, almost is not being friends with benefits. Almost is months down the line, almost is when you’ve met each other’s friends and family, when you spend every weekend together, when your toothbrush sits beside theirs in that little pot on the kitchen cabinet, when you rely on them for emotional support, when they are the first person you want to tell good or bad news to, except you are not in a relationship. Except when you dare broach the subject of defining the relationship, they respond with ‘but why do we need a label?’ and you are left feeling needy, demanding and vulnerable.
Almost is a mind-fuck.
And the problem with almost is knowing deep down, that’s all you’ll ever be. The problem with almost is deciding whether to except this love-limbo charade or cut the cord and spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if?’ the problem with almost is reading into every little thing they do for you and wondering what it means, if it means anything at all. The problem with almost is that is stops you from meeting someone who is certain, who is sure, who knows what they want, who wouldn’t do anything to risk losing you to someone else. The problem with almost is feeling committed to someone who won’t commit to you, is feeling as if you’re in a relationship when you’re absolutely not.
The problem with almost is knowing you do not fit with this idea they have of their ‘perfect match’ and accepting you never will. The problem with almost is analysing what it is you don’t have, what you’ll never be and trying to remind yourself it isn’t a reflection of you, but of them. Of wanting someone half way because you look good on their arm, because they enjoy doing coupley things with you but don’t want to be tied to you, because they’re terrified of losing the way your body feels pressed against theirs, because it is easier to charm a placeholder for long enough before the real deal comes along, than it is to be alone.
The problem with almost is shoving your needs deep down inside of you but still choking on them when you’ve had too much wine, or it’s 4am and you can’t help but wonder who else is out there who would never let you feel like you’re almost worthy of love. The problem with almost is taping your mouth and accepting it for what it is because you can scream until your throat burns but if someone doesn’t want to hear you, they never will. The problem with almost is the hope which flickers inside of you and refuses to be put out, even when the truth is so clear it’s blinding. The problem with almost is that it promises to be so much more and even looks like it sometimes too.
The problem with almost is that it never looks like almost at first and how do you escape something which could almost be perfect, which convinced you it was? How do you end something which never existed in the first place?
The problem with being someone’s almost is that it convinces you you are almost special, almost lovable, almost worthy, almost.
But the truth is, you are all of those things, with or without them.
The truth is, the problem is with them, their lack of ability to commit, to realise what’s in front of them, lack of understanding that when you finally walk away they’ll realise they almost had the best thing that will ever happen to them.