Crash and Burn

Today's Triumph: I'm going to save that for the end. It's a lesson learned from everything in the last post and this one.

This is the story of this summer, and how it was almost everything. And then it wasn't.

After last year, with my body image meltdown and confronting my feelings for Blake, I found myself in a hole that I couldn't get out of, and it made it impossible for me to move on. The last time I saw Blake, I said something kind of intense, and because I am me and I leave too much of myself in other people's hands, I left a part of me in that moment, and I didn't realize at the time that it was a piece that I could not afford to be without. Then Blake was gone, and with her went that bit that left me incomplete. She didn't take anything from me; I just dropped it unwittingly because I had too much to carry.

For months afterward I tried to reassemble myself to no avail, continually crumbling apart due to my missing keystone. It wasn't exactly about missing Blake, though I can't pretend that wasn't part of what I was feeling; it was more that I was structurally unstable and therefore couldn't withstand any amount of pressure.

I'm still not really sure why it worked this way, but Blake came to visit our group of friends just after the new year, and as soon as I saw her I felt restored. Not because she was back, though it was wonderful to see her. It was because I was back. Whatever I had fixed to that time and space with her came back to me then, and I felt released. The knots in my chest eased, the sharp corners in my mind became curves, and my thoughts stopped catching on the jagged edges. I could sleep. I could breathe.

A few months after that I took a suggestion made by a friend months earlier, but I hadn't been ready at the time. I signed up on a dating app for women, and three days later I connected with an incredible non-binary person. I'll call them Toni for anonymity's sake, which bears no resemblance to their name.

Our connection was instant and powerful. We had everything in common, to the point that we were each calling the other a doppleganger. I had found a vegan theater-loving anti-captivity activist super geek who fell instantly for my pineapple scarf and mad laundry skills. We talked around the clock for days, which turned in to weeks, and every minute of it was great. We fascinated each other, and we communicated very openly about everything.

Setting up our first date took some time, because they're a single parent and they live on Long Island, so it took some logistical gymnastics, but nothing too prohibitive. They were more than willing to come to me, which made me feel better, so I picked a venue for this date that felt safe to me, and we met up at Cranbury Park with my dogs one Saturday morning. The idea was that if we walked around the park for a while and that went well, then we would proceed with the rest of the date as planned, which included Pride in the Park, and then seeing a show that some of my friends were in.

The whole day was amazing. It was perfect from start to finish, and the next day we both agreed it was the best first date either of us had been on. Toni met a lot of my friends throughout the day and loved them all, and my friends thought Toni was great. Everyone had a good impression of them, and they were all happy for me. No need to go in to all the details of the day, but I will say it ended with an amazing kiss accompanied by the best line ever: "I've been waiting to mess up that red lipstick all day." When they got home they sent me a selfie, showing my lipstick still on their face. I was feeling pretty fucking blissful.

For the next week, everything continued exactly as it had been, an endless conversation. I almost always heard from Toni first thing in the morning, often before I woke up. We had another date planned - a whole weekend together, actually, wherein they would be staying at my house - two weeks after the first one. The interval was based on their custody arrangement, but I didn't mind. Two weeks wasn't so bad, and once things moved along to where Toni would be ready for me to meet their kids, I could visit them on some of the other weekends. That was the idea we discussed, anyway. We were continuing to make plans throughout the summer and into the fall while our second date approached on the calendar.

Just over a week after that first date, and nearly a month after we started talking, Toni said they weren't feeling well, and might not be able to make it that weekend. I didn't think too much of it at first. They were feeling pretty rotten, but we both figured it would be better by the weekend, and it was only Monday. It got worse throughout the week. Toni waited until Saturday morning to make the final determination, but we both already knew it wasn't going to happen.

When it became clear that the date was going to be canceled, I had what I freely admit was a completely irrational reaction, but I did at least have the wherewithal to have that reaction privately. I panicked, certain that if I didn't see Toni that weekend, then I would never see them again. I felt like I was so close to something so good, but having only met once, we didn't have enough of a tether in one another's lives to claim space in them, and it would be too easy for all of it to disappear. In my usual fashion of late, I started crying, already mourning something that I had not yet lost, but some part of me knew that I would.

Fearing that my irrationality would lead my to fuck up a potential relationship that I was more excited about than any other I'd had (and yes, my myriad other relationships were in person, not mostly distant like this one), I did what I had been needing to do for the past year, and finally got a therapist. My motivation was to keep myself from screwing up everything with Toni, but I am very glad I did that for so many other reasons.

After my first session with my therapist I was able to relax a bit. Toni wasn't feeling any better, but they had set up some appointments with some doctors to get some answers. I was at the doctor myself when they told me that the cause of all their terrible symptoms had been discovered. The diagnosis is their business so I won't write about it, but it was much scarier than either of us had feared.

Two years ago I created a show about depression and relationships, and there was one character I based on myself. She sang a song called "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden. Toni had watched a video of this show and that was the only song that made them cry. I asked why, and they said they were so touched by the devotion and love of that friend. I told them I identified with that song because I am the Crash and Burn friend, but sometimes I feel like it's too forceful, and I want to be more support than a person might need or want from me. Toni said they were impressed with my self-awareness.

When you feel all alone And the world has turned it's back on you Give me a moment please to tame your wounded heart I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold When darkness is upon your door and You feel like you can't take anymore

Let me be the one you call If you jump I'll break your fall Lift you up and fly away with you into the night If you need to fall apart I can mend a broken heart If you need to crash then crash and burn You're not alone

When you feel all alone And a loyal friend is hard to find You're caught in a one way street With the monsters in your head When hopes and dreams are far away and You feel you can't face the day

Let me be the one you call If you jump I'll break your fall Lift you up and fly away with you into the night If you need to fall apart I can mend a broken heart If you need to crash then crash and burn You're not alone

Because there has always been heartache and pain And when it's over you'll breathe again You'll breathe again When you feel all alone And the world has turned its back on you Give me a moment please

To tame your wounded heart

Let me be the one you call If you jump I'll break your fall Lift you up and fly away with you into the night If you need to fall apart I can mend a broken heart If you need to crash then crash and burn You're not alone

I wasn't quite self-aware enough. My immediate reaction to Toni's diagnosis was tenacious support. That was wrong. I wanted so much to show that they could count on me for whatever help I could provide, but instead of offering support I administered pressure. In trying to assure them that I was willing to do whatever they might ask of me, I didn't consider what I was asking of them. They were quickly and deservedly overwhelmed and withdrew from the conversation. I took that as a signal that I needed to step back and reassess.

The next morning I sent a text apologizing for being an asshole, and saying that I fucked up and that I realized that I was asking to be included in something very scary and personal, and I was doing so on the strength of what really was only one date. It felt like much more than that to both of us, but even so we did not have the foundation for me to request so much of them. It can be taxing to provide support to someone, but we don't always consider how taxing it can be for a person to allow that support. It takes mental resources to grant someone that access. It takes trust, and that takes time. I hadn't earned it.

This was a sticker that Toni put on their cheek while we were at Pride in the Park. It tore when they peeled it off in my car at the end of the night, and they tried to stick it on my dashboard but it wouldn't hold. Yep, I'm indulging in some super melancholy symbolism.

Toni said that I didn't fuck up, that I was absorbing and reacting to the news just as they were, and we both needed some time to get our heads around that moment. At the same time that I was gearing up to show that I could be this source of strength, they were expressing to me that they felt terrible about the timing and that we had just started this relationship, but that they didn't feel like they could invest in something like that right now. I was of course heartbroken and I cried, but I kept that to myself. I told Toni that I didn't want to take anything from them; I just wanted to be a soft place to land. I meant it.

After that talk, our conversation resumed its previous ease and openness, but without the mush and emojis. It continued that way for a while as they tackled some lifestyle changes and potential treatments for which they would need to prepare. Some days were better than others, as sometimes they were just too mentally and physically exhausted to talk much, but we did still talk every day. They had said they wanted to stay connected and go to shows or watch movies if they felt up to it some days. I believed that we connected for a reason, and I didn't want to lose that even if meant we would only be friends.

Then one day, in the midst of a conversation, Toni didn't reply. They had told me the next day was going to be hard. I asked why. And that was it. I never heard from them again. That was nearly three weeks ago. I waited a couple of days in case they were feeling overwhelmed and then sent a link to something silly. Then the morning of their next doctor's appointment I sent a text to say I hoped it went well. I received no response to either, and did not try again. I didn't want to make it worse by adding pressure.

After a while I noticed they weren't posting to Instagram, which is the only social media they're on, so I started to get a little concerned that something had suddenly happened and their health took a drastic turn. I was 99% certain that they wouldn't ghost me, after how well we'd communicated up to then. I don't have a connection to anyone else in their life that I could reach out to. All I could do was worry, and hope that Toni just needed space.

That appears to be the case. I was planning to write about Toni tomorrow anyway, but as it happened, they resurfaced tonight with an Instagram post that essentially says they're going through a lot and don't want to talk about it. I'm not sure if it's fair to call it ghosting. I don't want to call it that. Clearly I am more than they can handle right now and I respect that, but I can't pretend I'm not heartbroken. I felt like I was on the verge of something really amazing. Actually I was, I know I was. We were. I can't be mad at Toni and I actually feel guilty for being so sad about it when they're going through so much, but for myself, it does me no good to deny what I feel. I am sad and confused and I wanted it to be so much more than it turned out to be. I am fervently wishing Toni a full recovery and all the best that life has to offer for them and their family, but I have to find a way to let them go if they don't want to be tethered to me. They will always have my friendship if they want it, but my instinct to believe in hope is not serving me well. I can follow hope into some serious detriment.

The challenge for me here is to not leave a piece of myself in this space, in this moment, as I tend to do. Maybe when I do that I think I'm leaving the heartbreak, but I get the pieces mixed up. I don't know. I just know that I can't hang anything on Toni, because this time I have no idea if or how it would come back to me.

So, here's the lesson I've learned; my triumph for today: When I told Blake that my name was supposed to be Autumn and that the world wouldn't let me change, I felt a new world open when she leaned in and said "then I'll change the world for you, Autumn." That world wasn't just a place where I hoped Blake might return my affections; it was a place where Autumn was real. But in this world, the real world, I hadn't actually asked anybody to call me that, although one friend did pick it up (love you Justine!). When I signed up on the app where I met Toni, I signed up as Autumn. That was how Toni knew me until I told them my "real" name.

After Toni stopped talking I realized part of my grief, and thus part of my grief over Blake, was actually for the identity I had with them. When I offered them Autumn and they didn't want her as I hoped she would be wanted, I felt like I lost Autumn. I lost my true identity. The one I so rarely show to people because I'm so afraid she will be rejected.

In essence, what I realized was that I left Autumn's life in the hands of other people. I only let her exist if I thought someone wanted her the way she hoped to be wanted. The way I hoped to be wanted. The way I'm still looking for, I guess. But the point is that I don't need somebody to want to me in order to be who I really am. Autumn exists whether or not anybody is waiting to mess up her red lipstick.

So fuck it all, here I am, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, I take myself. I am Autumn, and it's time for me to be my own goddamn crash and burn friend.

#mentalhealth #crashandburn #bodyimage #friendship #relationships #identity