As I write this post, I’m on my couch and it’s currently 1999. I’ve got Brandy’s, Almost Doesn’t Count playing throughout my house, I’m wearing my old Abercrombie sweatpants and an ex boyfriend’s old high school sweatshirt that I found in my closet. All that’s missing is a Capri Sun instead of my mint tea. I wanted to write about a totally different topic today, I really did, but beside the amount of requests I’ve received these past few months to write about almost relationships, the concept of “almost,” has been showing up a lot in my life lately.
I’m listening to the lyrics of this song and although “almost doesn’t count,” makes total logical sense…
Why is “almost” even harder to get over than full-blown?
What is it about almost relationships that, no matter how we move on in our lives (in spite of what could have (never?) been), keeps our hearts frozen in the time of what almost was?
The hardest breakup I’ve ever had to go through was the breakup of my codependent relationship with emotional grey zones. Black and white was always boring and immediately written off, but GREY?… I was IN.
I gravitated toward emotional grey zones because it gave me a valid license to spend my time (& tie my value to), trying to make black and white sense of what always was and always will be… GREY.
I needed to grey all of the black and white deal-breakers, initial red flags and ambiguity, so that I could buy more time in the land of limbo and have an emotional jerk off session with fantasies that my insecurities, hopes, dreams and delusion had labeled as reality.
The codependent addiction was simple – I needed emotional grey zones to feel a sense of irreplaceable passion, intensity, etc. and emotional gray zones needed me to stay relevant.
So how does this tie into almost relationships?
The only way that an almost relationship can EVER exist is from the seed of emotional grey zones and the fertilizer of blurred lines.
Emotional grey zones make us feel like we’ve been locked out of nirvana and finally got let in. They make us question how we EVER got on before they came into our existence. And because of the intensity and sexy, “keep-you-on-your-emotional-toes” fear that they ignite, we try to replace the FACT that there are too many “almosts” to count, with deciding to further INVEST into the belief of the emotional ponzi scheme/scam we’re playing on OURSELVES.
All of us have had that one person – the one person that wasn’t ever completely ours, but we so badly wanted them to be. The one person that was almost everything we could have ever dreamed of. This person made us feel like anything was possible… even Happily Ever After.
With almost relationships, there’s never any certainty as far as what you’re getting into (we immediately squash this fact though, by engaging in emotional philosophication, asking ourselves bullsh*t like, “what is EVER really certain in life anyway?”).
The terms and conditions of the what “almost” is keep changing as you go on because the relational foundation isn’t compacted in reality. The only black and white in the midst of so.much.grey, is that you are a part of (?) a 1/2 way, quassi-relationship with someone who may or may not be fully invested and may or may not be a part of your present (& future).
All the contradictions and confusion end up acting as the ultimate build up; an aphrodisiac to those whose hearts are in repair.
The problem with almost relationships is that although it may seem like there’s a level mutuality and accountability… it’s fleeting – and fleeting or “almost accountability,” is ZERO accountability.
There’s no commitment, discussion or promise of an actual relationship. You don’t dare bring it up for fear of “rocking your dreamboat,” which you’re convinced will result in abandonment. And they’re too comfortable getting the benefits of having a monogamous relationship without having to assure you through words and actions, that they’re being monogamous.