I didn’t even want to go on a date with him to begin with. That’s how these stories always start, don’t they? It was a Tuesday afternoon in November. “If he doesn’t text me by 3pm I’m going to assume it’s not happening,” I said to my best friend over the phone. I was secretly hoping he had forgotten about the date we set a week ago. Maybe he didn’t put it in his calendar. Maybe he could forget and I could put in a hair mask and run a bath and watch the latest episode of Summer House. Maybe we could both pretend this never happened and slowly fade into oblivion.
My phone buzzed at 2:56. “Excited to see you later. How’s Felix at 7pm?” Goddamnit.
It’s not that there was anything wrong with him that made me not want to meet him. I was sure he’d be nice. And attractive. And smart. They always are. The conversation is always good. The restaurant is always nice. The kiss in front of my car is always fine.
I simply didn’t have the energy for it all. For the mediocrity, the hope, the let down. For the pros and cons list I’d inevitably make in my phone. The Instagram follow. The story reply. The What’s your plan this weekend? But nonetheless I picked up my phone and typed “Sounds great! See you then :)” then rolled my eyes, threw my phone onto my bed, and turned on the shower.
Fast forward nine hours later. I was in my car with the engine running, he looked back and waved as he walked down the dark street. I smiled. A little flush, partially from the wine and partially from him. I dug my phone from the pocket of my leather jacket and texted my friend. “He’s kind of perfect” I typed. “Like literally there’s nothing wrong with him.”
And so begins the story of my one year situationship.
According to dictionary.com a situationship is “a romantic or sexual relationship that is undefined and noncommittal,” and it’s become increasingly popular in this generation’s dating pool, especially amongst Gen Z. A situationship is a temporary solution for both loneliness and the desire for autonomy. It’s a way to experience intimacy and companionship without the pressure or expectation that comes with a traditional relationship.
In many ways, a situationship is expansive in the way it challenges societal norms. It challenges the idea that progression doesn’t have to be linear. That love doesn’t have to mean: date for 3 months, become exclusive, make him your boyfriend, move in together, get engaged, get married, have a baby, and live happily ever after. It gives freedom for the opportunity to love on your terms and to work on your personal growth while still feeling close and intimate with someone.
Unfortunately, it’s not always that simple. Situationships tend to be a breeding ground for people with a disordered relationship with love. It’s a perfect solution for anyone who craves love, but is deeply afraid of what might happen when they get it. It seems to attract the people who have been hurt so badly in the past that they’ve developed a deep fear of commitment. And the people who deep down don’t believe they deserve love, and settle for the scraps they can get.
It was three months in and we were lying on the beach in Venice on a warm Saturday afternoon. For the past few months, we’d spent every free moment together. I’d show up at his house on a Friday and end up not leaving until Monday morning. We’d co-work in cafes. We’d go to the gym together. We went to symphonies and art galleries and danced in the living room until the sun came up.
I was in a bikini top with my shorts rolled down to my hip, my hand held up to the sky blocking the sun from my eyes.
“You know,” he rolled onto his side to face me. “I didn’t expect to meet someone who I’d want to spend this much time with, but I’m at a place in my life where I really need to put myself first. I hope you can understand that.”
I squinted at him. “I’m in the same boat,” I said. “I’m really focused on my career right now. I’m not really looking for anything serious.”
I genuinely have no idea if that was the truth when I said it. And I have no idea if that remained the truth or a lie I told myself over the next nine months. But it’s a year later, and I’m choking through tears in the lobby of the Marlton hotel. We’ve broken up for the third and likely the last time.
The thing is, it never ends up being as simple as you say it is. You can say you’re prioritizing yourself, but you still end up responsible for someone else’s feelings. You can say there’s no expectations, but you still get upset if they don’t act the way you want. You can say you’re ok with things just as they are, but deep down you know you want more out of your relationships. And the entire time, you’re fighting an uphill battle against your own ego. Trying to prove to yourself that you’re worth loving.
Most situationships have one person taking advantage of the situation and another being taken advantage of. As women, we are taught to hold our tongue and to be accommodating. To put our feelings to the side and not ask for what we want in fear that we will scare them away. Men are flighty birds on a telephone wire and we mustn’t scare them away! My relationship was a little different (or so I tell myself), which made it difficult for friends and outsiders to understand.
I genuinely wasn’t looking for a relationship at the time. I had deactivated my dating profile and he slid in two days before the membership expired. We were both, supposedly, on the same page. But what happens when the love sneaks in? What happens when weeks turn into months and your body can’t sleep without him? What happens when he understands you so well he can crawl inside your brain and untangle your thoughts for you? What happens when your legs are tangled and you’re lying on the living room floor and you could simply die of bliss in that moment? Where is the love supposed to go? When you say, but I really need to focus on myself right now, how do you know which part of you is lying? How do you know it’s not an excuse?
As someone who’s been in two major situationships, the hurt that comes from a “non relationship relationship” tends to be more painful than that of a traditional one. You’re mourning the loss of an almost. Of something that never truly existed. You’ll never feel satiated by a beginning, a middle, and an end. You’re left gnawing at the bone of the middle bits.
I’m grateful to call it a learning experience. To have experienced true radical honesty. To have experienced love without conditions. To have endured the messiness of being human. To have been confronted with real uncomfortable truth, both mine and someone else’s. But I’m also grateful to have learned that things don’t change. That you won’t wake up one day and it will suddenly be different. That it doesn’t magically get easier.
When you pour love into a broken cup, the only place the love ends up is on the floor and all over your hands.
xoxo
Lily
Your story is so moving, the emotional highs and lows. I hope that you will have a good loving relationship. When I first met Susan, we were drawn to each other. But I feared marriage since my parents divorced when I was very young. We were apart for a year when I was away in graduate school, but it was too much for us and we married the next year. We’ve been married for 58 years. I think it’s going to last. Everybody’s situation is different of course, and I wish for you happiness in whatever form that takes.
Very well written!
As someone who’s been in this situation, and seeing what everyone thinks of situationships, they’re a bad idea and to be avoided. Your last sentence sums it up nicely. We can dress it up as a learning experience and whatever else makes it palatable and comforting after the fact, but there’s no replacement for not going down that path in the first place. We should be preaching the virtues of actual relationships and letting people know that there’s a reason situationships never end well.