It’s time, I suppose, for a harsh reality check and a quick rundown of some unforgiving truths.
Before we get to that though, just a quick update on anything else but that. Since the apocalyptic financial mayhem that took place in Quarter 1, I have slowly recovered already.
I am still not in the green, with lots of things to repay – but I’m getting there, one step at a time.
At any rate…
There was a point in my life where I would, without a doubt, categorize myself as one of the good guys. As someone who has a provider mindset, and someone who always tries to do the right thing.
Right now, I’m not so sure whether that holds truth anymore.
It’s been almost as long as my previous relationship lasted that I have been single now. Well, not quite – but I’m heading for a third year without a girlfriend.
Not that I need one, but dare I say, I function better with a constant that I can communicate with. And constants I have had a number of throughout this timespan. But nothing ever stuck. And I am not ashamed to say that 8 times out of 10, I was the reason.
I won’t lie – you can fault me for usually instigating things. I would bump into someone interesting, we’d connect, we’d grow more fond of each other, and then… I’d disconnect. I disconnect often for the shallowest of reasons, but in the moment, I believed those reasons to be valid. These range from not wanting to do LDR, to not wanting someone with multiple kids, and so, so much more. Sure, there are some non-negotiables – like if they smoke – but there’s a huge gray area where my dealbreakers vary from person to person, or worse, from mood to mood.
With the preface out of the way, I have always thought that these engagements and disengagements were for my own good – and maybe they were. But also, for the person I interact with. Or so I told myself.
In truth, people who don’t end up on the “potential girlfriend” list would have probably been best not touched at all. But I can’t help it, often times. There’s something I fancy in them, but I don’t fancy them enough. And that’s the problem. And that’s something I have to work on ASAP.
Because I, who self-proclaims to be a good guy, am slowly turning into the bad one.
Allow me, with this, to process the ups and downs – and a portion of the countless losses that I have encountered since. Names and personal details modified, of course.
Because I made distance an excuse
From Mati to Iloilo, and even neighboring Tagum… Distance was always an excuse for me. I just can’t help myself, but I truly believe that I function best being with the person I will end up picking on a consistent basis. Anything less than that feels like emotional fragmentation. And instead of piecing things together, I just walk away from the puzzle.
Because I had enough of the “nurturing part”
It’s really easy for people to judge and say “pick someone your age.” But many around my age are already accounted for, have multiple kids, or have emotional baggage of their own which I prefer not to deal with. Which, more often than not, leaves me with younger potential partners. Some, a little too young. Young in the sense that they are just about starting out in the corporate world – so young that I end up realizing I would prefer not to go through the entire ordeal of possibly setting up and molding someone for someone else again.
I think I can confidently say that I have a provider’s mindset. But if it can be helped, I would prefer not to carry that responsibility to that extent. Again.
Because I already have Yannah and don’t want to run a Kindergarten
I totally wouldn’t mind a single parent like me. That is – if she would have a single kid as well. While there have been potential candidates, dare I say, the deal breaker has frequently been the fact that they have multiple kids. Worst case? Kids with different dads – which adds multiple layers of social complexity, especially if I were to navigate (yes, I used this word, no, I did not ask AI to write this, haha) the social terrain with them.
One kid – at most two, if same father – is the most I could go for. None would make it even better, from an economical standpoint.
Because I keep playing the good guy – until I’m not
Here’s another truth that I’ve been hesitant to admit, even to myself.
I’ve always been the one to say I’m doing people a favor by staying out of their way. That I’m looking out for them. That I want what’s best for them. I’d enter a connection with the intention to uplift, support, mentor – whatever it is that makes me feel like I’m contributing to someone’s development.
But here’s the kicker: the moment things get too close, too attached, too “real,” I’m the first one to disappear. I go cold. I get skittish. I look for flaws or reasons to exit – and not always the fair kind. I find my “outs,” and I take them.
And here I am, realizing now that maybe I wasn’t doing them a favor. Maybe I wasn’t “protecting” them from me. Maybe I was just being selfish all along. Justifying my inability to commit. Polishing my disengagements as acts of mercy.
It’s a hard thing to admit – that maybe I’m not as altruistic or as emotionally mature as I thought I was. That maybe all this time, I’ve dressed up my exits in noble clothes, but underneath it all was simply the fear of losing control, of being too needed, of having to be emotionally present and consistent beyond the easy, early stages.
I guess I’ve wanted the good parts without the deep labor. Wanted the growth without the growing pains. Wanted to see people bloom, but only from a safe distance – far enough that if something wilts, I can pretend it wasn’t because of me.
Maybe it’ll change. Maybe I’ll grow out of this detachment streak. Maybe the next interaction won’t end with me walking away for reasons that barely hold up under scrutiny.
But I’m not betting on it just yet – let’s see how this week pans out first.
I guess the question now is: does acknowledging all of this change anything?
Maybe it does. Maybe it’s already starting to.
There’s someone I’m currently getting to know, and for once, I find myself wanting to slow down – not because I’m unsure, but because I want to get it right. Not perfect. Just… honest.
I’m trying to meet moments as they are, not rush to define them or run from them. And that might already be a sign of change – not in grand gestures, but in the willingness to stay present instead of finding the nearest exit.
It’s not about discomfort anymore. It’s about learning to be okay with the unknown, and letting things unfold – not control them or preempt their ending.
It’s not a 180, not a redemption arc. But maybe it’s a small shift. Maybe this is how change begins — not with dramatic declarations, but with tiny hesitations where I used to run.