2/25/24

The yearner vs the yearned for. This generation's relation to love has been growing ever-tensive as the years on, and for some reason, it only affects a select few. I know my fair share of healthy, if not long-term, or at least long-lasting relationships within my group of 20-something-year-old friends, yet, there continues to persist a group of individuals unable to break free of the very closed-off circle that dating in your 20s has become. Though try as they might, love seems to have become a whole other language, even when comparing it to what "love" was as we saw it in the early 2000s. 

Growing up, I know I was not the only one who felt I had a realistic expectation of what relationships were even with the constant pressure of Jennifer Lopez romcoms and girly teen dramas starring Emma Roberts; I felt I had an understanding that, while they were unrealistic, real love couldn't be that far off. No, I wasn't going to be chased after in an airport, mostly because I was born after 2001, nor would I meet the love of my life dancing behind a one-way mirror that he didn't know was there, but by the time I graduated high school, I would have had at least one past romance to look back on with a longing admiration for my youth in 20 years. When I graduated and moved to college I summed it up as the gay experience; small town, gay boy, few options, things would be different in college where everyone is my age, mostly single, and significantly more diverse than Lancaster County was willing to offer. 

Fucking is a currency for many, and for some, an even better way to meet people than any bar-hopping or bender could offer. In my own experience on the online dating sites that we have all come to know and hate, it is rare that you get asked on a date that lacks the suggestion of a 24-hour fast and a shaved ass - "let's just chill and see what happens". The word "date" has become synonymous with dating, which makes one think of relationships, and the person you fawn over just isn't ready for anything that serious yet. Though sex is undoubtedly a significant aspect of most relationships, it goes without saying that a recent emphasis on the act has shifted a general perception of what relationships are. My belief is that part of this is due to an over-abundance of it, and glamorization of being "heartless". 

An interesting dilemma I've recently had on my mind is who is in control of this dynamic. In stereotypical, heterosexual relationships with which I have very little experience, it seems inherent that such responsibility, as most things, revolves around the man. Though an over-reliance on sex is no new feat, especially within men, it seems apparent that even within the last 5 years there has been a dramatic shift towards more detached behavior concerning relationships and an emphasis on individuality. In this way, social media is the main culprit. TikTok especially has created a space in which almost every emotion, good or bad, can be validated and related. People "focus on yourself" "protect your peace" and "respect your boundaries" to the point that others' peace is a moot point, essentially weaponizing individuality into something that can't be argued against no matter how much they use it to excuse harmful behavior.

In my freshmen year of college, I had the misfortune of crushing hard on a man who lived in my dorms. We matched on Tinder the first week of my second semester, and knowing he had had a boyfriend a few months back towards the start of the school year, my thoughts were focused on knowing he was someone who did date and was not only looking for sex as my experiences with men had been up until this point. Eventually, we ended up hanging out, and though we didn't connect in a way I would want to connect with someone I wanted to date, I excitedly told my friends that I was more than happy to have a new friend, especially a gay one that could relate to that aspect of my life as my straight friends were unable to on the same level. After a month or so, I came to realize nothing was happening platonic or otherwise and moved on to pursue others with more aligning goals. I then got a message on an unnamed dating app asking me to come over to his dorm to hang out. I was astounded, giddy even, I couldn't believe that I had wanted him, not got him, moved on, and then out of the blue my chance presented itself. An important note is that at the time, I was still inexperienced both in dating and my sex life, and though I had an inkling, was unable to tell what he was asking of me. I went to his dorm, an hour or so passed, and I he didn't text me again for about a year. We lived in the same dorms, and the following year, the same apartment complex. I saw him on campus, he saw me in the elevator, and he looked away when I looked at him. Then he messaged me again telling me what apartment he lived in. Granted this time I was well aware of what he wanted, however, my naivety persisted, assuring myself that nobody would be so cruel as to do the same thing twice, knowing how frequently we bumped into each other, and how awkward it was for both of us. I haven't talked to him since that day, almost exactly a year ago, and he has since moved out of my apartment complex and gotten up to lord knows what.

He knew I liked him freshman year, he knew he hurt me afterward. He knew he wasn't going to text me like he said he would a year ago, and said for the sake of keeping face; to not feel too badly about himself for what he was doing. In his mind, he needed off, and I was easy access, an argument I didn't exactly prove untrue by agreeing to see him again; but yearners yearn. 

Some of us exist in a space in which we retain hope that people can't be that mean. That if you really wanted sex, you'd message someone you wouldn't have to see again, and that maybe things have changed this time around. Stupid as it is. We hope that when a person starts texting less they really are as busy as they say they are, maybe they're just bad at texting. Others exist in a space in which they know what they want, and the consequences of attaining it aren't as much of a concern. Why put in the work to explain yourself when you can so easily just stop replying? 

The over-saturation of sex and glorification of "not caring" has created a space in which the yearned for have no reason to second guess their actions. They're "owning their sexuality" and "putting up boundaries", protecting peace at the expense of others. The way I see it yearners and the yearned for can alternate, and one only recognizes the position their in when faced with one of these roles; longing for someone no longer accessible, or ghosting someone because you've lost interest. Everyone participates in both, yet neither is necessarily at fault because why would you want someone who clearly isn't an option, and why communicate feelings to someone you never had the intention of doing anything to other than lead on? The only option either have to be truly left of blame is keeping to themselves, deleting Tinder, stop opening TikTok, settle for less. But how fair of an ask is that? To expect you to not sleep around because someone might catch feelings, or to force someone to remove any ability to meet anyone because they can't help but get hurt by everyone they've met thus far. 

The yearners will yearn, and the yearned for will be yearned for. Love, get hurt, fuck, date, do it all again. Neither of us will learn from our mistakes until one of us moves on.