Letter to Old Friend: They say write what you know. That’s why I don’t write about love.
By Heinrich
Dear friend,
I write of pain and sadness and grief and loss because they say write what you know.
I do not write of love, at least not romantic love, because I would not know where to start. I am not even sure if I have ever felt a love so encompassing that it is worthy of a story. I know that I have gotten close. I know that at one point in my life, or maybe even two points, I almost got there.
My perception of love is also skewed from the years of not completely understanding my sexuality, or lack thereof. For a time, I was convinced that I was asexual.
As I approached my adolescence, I started seeing a pattern in my friends that I did not see in myself. The topic of “sex” was so easily brought up as if it was always on their minds.
I, on the other hand, had no interest in the intimate parts of relationships the way my friends did. I thought at first, it was my immaturity.
It was not.
Now I am not saying that to be in love, you have to have sex with someone first. Nor am I saying that people in the asexual spectrum can never experience the love that we read about so often.
I am merely saying that my views on love and relationships were so skewed by social convention that for a time, I could not understand the nuances that love brings into a relationship.
I had my first kiss when I was 14 with my first boyfriend in high school. The “L word” was expressed maybe two weeks later. I said it back. I did not mean it.
About a year later, my most serious relationship began. I believe that at the time, when the “L word” was said, I meant it. If I were to ever get intimate with someone, it would’ve been him.
When it became perfectly clear that sex was not something that was on my mind, he understood. Until he didn't.
He is part of the reason I am so weary of love today. For all intents and purposes, he was my first love. The first person that I would have wanted more with. He was the reason behind my label as “demisexual.” But in the end, I got burned.
Another year went by and boyfriend number three came along. Two months after that, boyfriend number four came along.
What can I say? I was lonely. But since the idea of romance in the adolescent mind included sex, I was often slut shamed during that time of my life. Imagine slut shaming a virgin who barely had a sexuality. This skewed my perception of love even more.
Now, I am 20 years old and single. I assume that it will be like that for a while. I have to unlearn a lot of what I experienced.
Being demisexual, this can go one of two ways: best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers. Either way, it will be a slow burn.
Sincelerly,
Your friend