Hopeless Romantic

a lover's soundtrack

We immediately started sharing everything with each other — our secrets, hopes, dreams, and clothes. She wanted to know everything about me down to the last detail. A few weeks into our whirlwind courting, she asked me about my favorite songs, so I sent her a previously curated playlist. Taking a quick glance and based on titles alone, she labeled me a hopeless romantic. I had never thought of myself as that, but if she was saying it, it must be true: she seemed eager to get to the bottom of me, map me out, and know all my exquisite points.

Playing it back, it feels like an obvious assumption: every song centers on love or heartbreak. Appropriately titled “ALL TIME FAVS,” each song I’ve added has drowned me in emotion at one point or another. Most tracks on the playlist share a common thread: the attempt to understand or cling to someone emotionally, even when love feels fragile or out of reach.

I'd like to walk around in your mind someday
I'd like to walk all over the things you say to me

I remember feeling uneasy at the start of our relationship as she peppered me with questions, like I was under investigation. She shared pieces of herself, too — stories of a childhood filled with rules, a longing for validation that she never entirely received. She was charming and attentive, but her need to define me felt rooted in insecurity, as though understanding me completely might somehow make her whole. It was as if she was fast-tracking her way into knowing me, trying to figure me out so she could mold herself into exactly what she thought I wanted. But I didn’t know how to condense myself and explain who I was to her on the spot — I didn’t have a quick overview or a neatly packaged summary. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just let things unfold naturally and get to know each other over time. I didn’t want to force it. But she was bubbly, relentless, and determined to crack me open.

Early on, we played We’re Not Really Strangers, a card game designed to ‘deepen connections through thought-provoking questions and personal revelations.’ We went through every card — twice. For her, it seemed like an exciting game, but to me, it felt like a test. I didn’t enjoy it the way she did. Did I give her the answers she was looking for?

She took those answers — the ones she pushed out of me — and used them to shape her idea of who I was and what I wanted. She became who she thought I needed her to be based on the parts of myself I hadn’t been ready to share.

You made me love you
I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it
You made me want you
And all the time you knew it
I guess you always knew it

Don’t get me wrong, it felt wonderful that someone so desperately wanted to know me, but I started to feel like I might not know myself. The answers I gave to her constant inquiries didn’t necessarily feel correct or precise, and she quickly packaged me into a person that perhaps I wasn’t. She tailored herself to the needs she assumed I had — a cookie-cutter version of a person. She performed as the perfect partner, but that isn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted her to lay herself bare over time and for me to have the freedom to do the same. Not just that, I wanted us to feel free to evolve instead of remaining in a fixed box.

All I really, really want our love to do
Is to bring out the best in me and in you
I wanna talk to you, I want to shampoo you
I want to renew you again and again

She quickly concluded that I was “it,” that I was her person, and that she had loved others, but this was unlike anything she had experienced. She called me her wife and the love of her life. I was fooled into thinking she saw me, the complete me, that she loved me for all my faults and flaws. We jumped too far ahead, swept up in our mutual obsession, that we started neglecting our own needs. We were so caught up in the excitement that we failed to see we weren’t heading in the same direction — and that we likely were never on the same path. It was as if pretending to be the perfect partner had become more important than truly understanding one another.

I've seen you changing
Was it me you were thinking of?
All the time when you thought of me
You never needed anyone to expose you to yourself
And you never needed anyone to raise you hell out of your mind

The strange thing was that when I asked her for her favorite songs after sharing mine, she sent me a playlist she had just made — and most of the songs were from my list. How odd. Why did she feel the need to mirror me? It was like she was holding up a reflection and saying, “See? I am you. I am what you want. I am what you need.” She seemed either unwilling or unable to show me her true self.

We discussed previous relationships, heartbreak, and longing with each other. We expressed the desire to be fawned over but in a healthy way. We thought we found that in each other. I was just as quick to draw conclusions about her — that I was safe to melt in her arms. But maybe I didn’t dig deep enough. Maybe it was my fault for failing to see beneath the surface, to understand what she was trying to reveal. Was it my job to uncover the truth? To see through her performance? To call her bluff? Her eyes glittered with loving deception, and I believed every word that came out of her pretty mouth.

She told me early on that she never believed her previous partners had really loved her. They were drawn to her only because she made them feel special. They adored the version of themselves they saw in her affection but never actually saw her. And here I was, believing I could be the one to see her.

But how could I ever know her if she never let me in? Regurgitating her trauma in the first few weeks of our relationship didn’t make her vulnerable; it was just a story. Vulnerability isn’t a quick release of past pain. It’s about letting someone in, piece by piece — not just when it feels like a cathartic release.

I’ve always expected too much from my relationships, needing someone to be everything for me, to take over my life because I was too afraid to build my own. It was easier to find importance and purpose in another than in myself. I loved playing the role of the hopeless romantic.

She, on the other hand, was full of contradictions. She craved independence, yet she wanted to be deeply obsessed with someone, thoroughly entrenched in their life. More than once, she dropped hints that we should share our locations with each other. She even told me about arguments with an ex where this iPhone feature caused tension and fights, yet she still brought it up as if we should follow the same toxic pattern. I didn’t buy into it. I hoped we wouldn’t need to perform those rituals of control. Besides, I spent nearly every moment with her — except when I was relapsing.

You seem so far away though you are standing near
You made me feel alive, but something died I fear
I really tried to make it out, I wish I understood
What happened to our love? It used to be so good

Maybe that’s why I never shared my location with her ‘indefinitely’ or even for an hour. Apart from it feeling out of character for us as a control tactic, I needed the freedom to walk that block down the street and buy a bag. She knew I was an addict, and I shared with her that I was struggling, but I still tried to hide the exact moments I slipped. If she saw me failing and knew I couldn’t maintain that image of perfection, I was confident she’d turn and run. She suspected I was hiding something and even caught me high more than once. I didn’t enjoy keeping it from her; I just didn’t know how to stop. Admitting it would mean exposing our relationship's faults and her idea of me.

After multiple relapses, cracks in her perfect composure and pretty smile began to show. She grew increasingly nervous around me, too afraid to admit she was scared and was seeking an escape. She said nothing when I asked what was wrong, and I withdrew further into my hopeless shell. We kept pretending until we couldn’t anymore.

Love isn’t about sculpting each other into our perfect selves or racing to uncover every secret. It’s about learning to grow together and apart, to be flawed and human without fear of rejection. In trying to be everything for each other, we forgot how to be ourselves. Maybe we weren’t ready for that kind of love.

Heart-shaped chews and traps
Treasure hiding
Scared of temptress skill
Love I'd sold, I was trying
Deep without us
Down down and further—tears
Collective in try and stop
Fire is out
Not ready focus
Life places scars
Purify them
Constancy
Purifies new skins
In excelcius
Glee she'll use as fire
Lips spread the fire
Your heart
And you are ready

PLAYLIST

“I’d Like to Walk Around in Your Mind” by Vashti Bunyan

“You Made Me Love You” by Patsy Cline

“All I Want” by Joni Mitchell

“Heart Shaped Face” by Angel Olsen

“SOS” by ABBA

“Treasure Hiding” by Cocteau Twins