An unopened jar of tomato sauce

It was a Wednesday evening when I walked back to my room with only a jar of tomato sauce to remember what we shared. There was nothing actually special about that particular jar of sauce except the fickle representation that it held; Doubled with what I would describe as the most awkward conversation we had in your bedroom. It would be our last proper conversation. Yet, it felt more like a transfer of information or a service announcement. PSA, this is it. Don't get me wrong, in your true fashion it wasn't harsh, you were kind, thoughtful but with lack for a better word, inconsiderate, without meaning to but I guess that’s a pun in itself. You frequently put a lot of thought into things which I found sweet, touching and caring but it was often hard to see that translated into action. You see, to be inconsiderate is to not think about how the effect your actions have on other people. It’s not that you didn’t care, you did, at least said you did. We were just different people with different considerations.

The beginning

It at all started five months ago in February, I had just moved to England the start of the new year for law school in the small village of Buckingham where everything moved slow. The consistent silence for a city girl like me could shatter glass, and loneliness could easily become your best friend. Initially I had hoped that the start of a new year in a different country would bring about the most improved version of myself. I was going to work on my craft by writing, pick up guitar again since it had been years, be sure to retain the American accent I assimilated to while living in Baltimore for the past six years, and most importantly I was going change my style. I wanted to explore different parts of myself.

There’s a saying, ‘If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.’

I had struggled to settle in and find my place which isn’t an experience I’m entirely unfamiliar with but this time it felt different. I kept to myself, keeping my head down with my earphones on so I could go unnoticed or ward off any attention. I had the tendency to struggle socially and I was yet to find someone that I could connect and vibe with on a sincere level, until one day a friend introduced me to a guy who smoked. To sustain his anonymity, we’ll call him Charlie; short, sweet and very British sounding. I’d see him in passing outside the gazebo of our dorm and we had rather small interactions. It all seemed very minute at the time, but the preamble was very necessary. I’d stretch it and say that this was how we slowly began to notice each other.

I first got the impression that you were interested the night of the ‘wild n out’ party on campus. The weather was cold, but the energy was cool and breezy. You gave me and a girlfriend a ride to and from the party with one of your friends. You were flirty and friendly, and I still remember seated at the backseat of your car with my friend when I cheekily typed, ‘He’s kinda cute’ on the note app of my phone. We smiled and giggled quietly to ourselves when it had dawned on me to be unsure and ask which one, she thought I was referring, and it turned out she found Charlie’s friend cute as well. Things picked up when I was approved for a room reassignment from the tuna canned sized single bedroom, to the refurbished double bedroom situated on the same part of the building and floor as Charlie. It had been raining that day and I was laboring with a lot of difficulty to move all my belongings to my new room when he offered to help me carry my things. I refused in my usual and awkward, ‘don’t bother because I don’t want to be a bother way’. I never want to seem like I’m bothering a person especially if it’s a person I don’t know too well. Plus, in that instance, I had gathered reinforcement that were proving to be unfortunately unreliable and after the multiple trips between the two buildings, Charlie seeing my obvious struggle, helped me carry my stuff up to my floor. From then on, we slowly started to text, often just nice and friendly, with a couple offers to smoke outside together. Dare I say, he asked me out to take a walk around an edible garden and smoke. Then again, I was oblivious to things of this nature, so I took it as just a mere invitation to hang out.

Although, it never happened, that same day we went outside to smoke with a few people from our building and drink in our communal kitchen as a pre-game before the party that night. I wasn’t sure if I was flirting that night but from the alcohol, smoking, and lack of sleep from the all-nighter I pulled finishing my introductory law paper, my inhibitions were curving in mixed directions and I was tired. Yet, I got the sense that Charlie was flirting when he made the offer to chill with me and watch a movie if I was too tired to go to the party. It was a very subtle offer, almost like an undertone in that if I didn’t pay attention, I would miss it and not hear it again. I slyly brought up the fact that I was tired again because in all honesty I wasn’t up to party, and he seemed sweet and fun. So, when we had agreed to stay in, I decided to humour him by suggesting we watch ‘Big Mouth’ and I like to think he was pleased with my coy, dirty-flirty humour. The night was slow and filled with an awkward but yet eager anticipation and when we finally kissed, I felt like I could be comfortable with you. We shared an intimate night and that was when you learnt of my inexperience, my first time. You were reassuring, warm and gentle (even though you couldn’t hide your wondering astonishment) the entire night, and although I was shy and understandably nervous, I felt like I could be comfortable and gradually with progress, possibly trust you. I was never waiting for the right guy or hoping to save myself, just a rather late bloomer. In all honesty I never held any high expectations towards what my first time and with whom it would be with, I just knew it had to be someone I was comfortable with and I could trust. Even though it didn’t happen that night, when it eventually did, it was just so.

The sunny days

The night after, we had the conversation on what we both wanted and we established that none of us wanted commitment or a relationship, you had just come out of one and I was not in the mental space to take on one. I was on a path of exploration mentally and sexually and I felt a relationship would not leave room for that liberation; I wanted to live my best single life. I believe the word that resonated with us the most that I had used was ‘confining’. We were allowed to see other people so long as there was disclosure and you were already casually involved with one other person which I was completely fine with. I inserted an exit strategy clause that required us to have the mature and honest conversation of ending it if either one of us became no longer interested, which thinking back on it, was probably smartest thing I had done.

We were embarking into a casual relationship which these days is as ubiquitous as the millennial obsession with brunches, or eating avocado toast, to which I am also guilty of. You see it is my belief and general understanding that everyone is just trying to find a human connection whether it’s physically, sexually, emotionally or mentally, which dare I say was the same for casual relationships. Everything was sweet and playful at first, mostly just hookups that involved a classic vinyl record playing in the background, Netflix, food and the occasional pillow talk that indulged our getting to know each other. I remember one long weekend leading up to our Easter break we’d stayed in most of time and you made pulled pork and pasta while we drank prosecco all night and talked. I promised to cook for you sometime in return and at the back of my head I thought I’d make pasta. I had really started to get to know and like you as a friend and I’ll describe then, as a more assuring time; like whatever decided to happen later we’d still be friends. All of our conversations always ran deep and intense, transcending from conversations about gender to race and intersectionality yet I later realized that I avoided the real conversations we needed to have.

From lukewarm to cold

The lines and the rules of the relationship began to blur when I detected some warning signs and didn’t know how to navigate them because we were casual, not exclusive, and I wasn’t seeking more so why bother. Probably the earliest sign actually was when we had just started talking. You asked me to watch a movie and you flaked two days in a row without warning at the last minute. It showed you didn’t really value my time and with the many more times in the future you would randomly flake or cancel, it was slightly evident that you didn’t respect me. Again, I don’t believe it was on purpose or with the intention to hurt me, you just didn’t put me into consideration, and I thought it was fine because we weren’t monogamous but then everyone deserves to be respected and valued. I manipulated myself into thinking I was okay with it all plus I’m not very confrontational. When you combine that with my mellow personality, I’m easily taken advantage of.

Later, I started to feel like I was always the one asking to hang out or the one actively working to get Charlie and I to spend time together. It got to the point that I was no longer sure he was interested. We’d had two conversations that tiptoed on the actual issue while presenting the opportunity to end things if he was no longer interested in the relationship. The problem was itching at my skin like a mosquito bite or a bad rash, not because I liked him, the feelings were not all there yet, but because I though he and I had become close friends that he could communicate with me or check in. Maybe it was forward thinking, but the subject it pointed to that I had chosen to ignore, was that of respect and value. The second time we had the conversation I had already taken the liberty of assuming it was over because he was so aloof to the point that we hadn’t hung out for an entire month. I texted asking if we could talk, blanketing those very words that guys fear to hear with “it’s nothing big”, when in reality it was to me. I was tired, not the same tired I was the first Friday we hung out, but tired of feeling misled and in my usual fashion I tried to downplay everything so I seemed chill and not as needy or clingy as a piece of lint on some fabric; I was nervous and he could tell. In his defense he shared that he was going through some things from his past that he was struggling to move on from and also that the other girl had been taking up a lot of his time. The way he spoke I could tell he had put a lot of thought into why he had distanced himself from me, so far that he had thought about how us hanging out too often might become uncomfortable for me in respect to whenever we chose to end things. In my mind I felt like all of this could have been easily communicated even with a simple check-in text, as I like to think I’m a very rational person and wouldn’t have minded if you wanted space. I guess it’s the pot calling the kettle black since we both couldn’t communicate. I was honestly marveled by your way of thinking and reasoning even as you assured me you were still strongly interested.

Yet, something felt disconnected which was proven by our awkward goodbye kiss and I knew what it was then but have only now come to accept it. It was indirect gaslighting because I always came out confused about my prior judgement or feeling that much of it came from my overthinking. It was hard to call it for what it was because I don’t think you even knew when you were doing it. A friend even went out to rationalize things by saying “maybe he’s considerate in ways you don’t understand and expect to be considerate”. Well there was actually a lot of truth to that and because of the huge enigma that is Charlie, I ran with it. Word for the wise, a casual relationship should not cause this much stress and I’m to blame for some because yes, I do overthink on my own but even after I had certified some red flags, I didn’t flat out call it for what it was. However just like everything in life, after our conversation things did start to pick up and we seemed to be more in sync in conveying our thoughts the more we spent time together. Yet, the inconsistency and occasional flaking still persisted but I decided to let it slide because finals were approaching, and we were all stressed and busy. You were even so nice enough to take time out of your evening by offering to study with me on a topic you had no idea about just so I didn’t feel so stressed. I had all my notes and revision sheets spread on your bed a little stressed and you made me talk through everything I had studied to give me more confidence in my knowledge. Afterwards, we had dinner with our friends from the first car ride together, who were now happily in a serious relationship together. The whole night was a good and steady distraction. That’s a solid example of the small instances of consideration that I didn’t expect or understand even though I should have because at the end of the day, Charlie was a sincerely nice and caring person. You were nice to the point that you offered to give me rides to the grocery store or text to see how I was doing and offer me medicine whenever I was experiencing one of my terrible migraines. You had this gift of being reassuring in this subtle way whenever I was unsure or nervous about something and it was something I valued in a friend. I guess it just takes you aback when an overall nice person does something in the asshole category. I’ve always said if you’re ever with an asshole nothing the asshole does can ever surprise you or be necessarily out of fashion because you take them for what they are at face value, an ass. However, a nice person can surprise you and even themselves because in the end, no one expects it from them. To give the benefit of the doubt, I know you were figuring yourself out from your past and you had been honest from the beginning about that. It was also clear that you were struggling to be involved with two people at the same time. None of that seemed to matter since we didn’t want a relationship; at least not from each other. Call it the frequent pillow talk or my lack of experience at first, but our conversations started to confuse me, like there could be more, and not just from Charlie’s end but on mine as well. Phrases like ‘it’s not just about the sex’ or enquiries about whether ‘I was just interested in using him for sex to get it over with’ in the past started to fog my understanding and I think around that time would have been good place to end it.

Down the rabbit hole

The last straw for me in regard to Charlie’s inconsistency and inconsiderate behaviour was when I had an important doctor’s appointment after exams. In your sweet and slightly persistent fashion you offered to drive me there since it was far despite my attempts to decline. I swiftly put it at the back of my mind not to rely on you in case you flaked or decided to cancel for something that took precedence. I didn’t mind or care whether you actually took me or not. It was just nice to have support from a friend that I could share my problem with, because I didn’t have many friends there that I could confide in. Later you informed me of the possibility of not being able to take me and I appreciated the pre-warning so when you said you’ll be unavailable because you had to attend your cousin’s birthday party, I wasn’t bothered. My appointment as it turned out was more physically and emotionally overwhelming than I had expected. There was a lot of crying from the end of the appointment, to me routing my bus and cab ride back home, that I argued with myself as to why I didn’t ask one of my other friends to go with me as I had never felt more alone and stranded. By the time I got back home I was exhausted. To add salt to the injury, I was subjected to an unsolicited conversation with people that I’m not particularly close with and who know nothing about my relationship with Charlie as to ‘why I allow myself to be treated terribly by him?’ and ‘why we aren’t in a relationship yet?’. As an African I have years of experience with being the recipient of unsolicited advice but with the day I’d had, I was in no mood for it. My mood tipped even more when I heard he was drunk at a party hosted by the other girl he was seeing. I sincerely didn’t care that it was her party, I had never been jealous of her because I always knew he was seeing her and really interested in her. Plus, although I wasn't close with her, she seemed like a genuinely, sweet and mature person. What bothered me the most, was the fact he didn’t check in to see how I was doing and the possibility that he may have lied about something that was so minute that it could have been avoided with a simple 'I’m busy' or even the truth. I decided not to jump to any conclusions because you often had explanations in the past and I didn’t have the right to accuse you of anything I wasn’t sure of. The story ended up being that you had mixed up the month of your cousin’s birthday and just gotten drunk instead. That was all fine I guess but by that time I no longer cared if it was true or not because as a whole your actions spoke differently. Fortunately, I left for the much-needed summer vacation and I took it as an opportunity to reflect on everything as I contemplated ending the relationship. Even our texts over the break felt different, like it was foreshadowing something, and I realize now it’s because you were also making your own decision. So, when we returned to school and I sensed the awkward weak smile you gave me, the one given by people you’re not that familiar with and so often portrayed by white people, I knew we were ending it.

We hadn’t spoken much but you had offered to take me grocery shopping, so when I knocked on your door to cash in on the offer and you said you needed to talk, I knew the moment had come. A poet I love once said “knowledge does not make us bulletproof; bones break the same way no matter the intention”. I wasn't broken but could the moment not have happened after or during the trip to the store? Talk about timing. I needed an activity or distraction to support my awkwardness because no matter how many times I’d imagined this moment to come, I never knew under what circumstance. I let you do most of the talking since you brought it up and I listened as you ultimately decided that we were better off as ‘friends’ and were planning to exclusively see the other girl. I was unexplainably conflicted about my feelings and maybe it's because it’s strange ending a relationship when you were never truly in one in the normative sense or that I wasn't the one to end it. Realistically though, I was losing one of my closest friends here; I had put all my eggs in one basket. I wasn’t blindsided because I had seen it coming, but it made everything I had rehearsed to say pointless and redundant. So I reassured you that it was fine and that I wanted to it end as well while you awkwardly said your sorrys and that you still found me pretty. It was a questionable form of affirmation as I didn’t need the validation, but I guess it was your way of feeling less uncomfortable or trying to make me feel better. I couldn't say for sure. Very strangely the conversation shifted back to groceries as he handed over a jar of tomato sauce to use to make dinner as our grocery shopping was postponed to a time that never came to fruition. Ironically, that jar of unopened tomato sauce sort of represents the unopened thoughts I always had, and funnily, the fact that I never got around to making the pasta I frequently promised him.

Redemption

In the end I’m satisfied with the fact that we ended things and maybe someday we will be friends. I like to think that every relationship with a person is a learning experience or an opportunity to gain a new perspective. I had taken the risk of exploring the unchartered waters of my sexuality and casual dating without worry of the repercussion. What’s life without the drama and risks? ; one without rewards. I’ve heard 2019 to be the year of growth and learning. My experience has taught me more about myself in terms of how I should see my self-worth. Learning that the bigger risk is to go with your gut, constantly bet on yourself even when others don’t, is the greatest lesson of self-respect.