Kevin and I got together some three years ago. And we split up some four months afterwards.
It was a spectacular example of how other people can never give you what you need to have inside of yourself.
Kevin was very intelligent, intellectual, ambitious, competitive, a perfectionist like me, well-mannered, very self-absorbed, kind of lonely and also quite philosophical. I had always felt we had something important in common: our lonely childhoods. His was probably even more depressive than mine because I always had SOME friends and I had my brother. On the other hand, Kevin was an only child and in his childhood he spent a great deal of time just playing video games and thinking he didn’t need anybody.
I believe in the ‘Inner Child’ thing and I think we both were similar in our Inner Childhood Loneliness.
Kevin was interesting in one thing: He was able to be very honest with himself even if only retrospectively, and he wasn’t afraid to share his realizations with me. People often try to justify their behavior even long after they had done someting, or they tend to articulate the same old opinions that they don’t in fact feel to be true any more, just so that they don’t have to admit they had been wrong. Kevin was quite able to admit, for example, that he had been mad at me and had argued with me because he didn’t like that I came up with a certain idea first.
The relationship was based on sharing ideas and opinions. He loved to debate and he liked that I wasn’t afraid of not agreeing with him. Eventually it backfired, of course, with him admitting not being able to bear that I didn’t agree.
He was one of the few workaholics I know who don’t actually work. He was 26, writing his PhD. dissertation, voluntarily co-managing some organisations and events focused on raising environmental awareness (which wasn’t for money nor for nature), travelling throughout the world due to both the dissertation and environmental organizations, and he was calling all of this ‘work’. He had a rather rigid regime in his work (as probably anybody who has to do someting without fixed working hours), drew schemes, kept his meticulous agenda, and even took a vacation at times – and called it a ‘vacation’ with all seriousness just as if he indeed was employed and some kind of a boss had had to approve of it.
By contrast, in his free time (i.e. when he wasn’t working) he was spontaneous and funny. We had a similar sense of humour I believe. I remember us walking through the beautiful Czech city of Český Krumlov, in a drunk-like mood, laughing out loud about who knows what. I liked his clothes – smart casual, flip-flops, bright-coloured scarfs – it contrasted the rigid seriousness that he maintained about work-related issues.
Strangely, he might have been described as a spoiled brat who had everything he wanted, but he was also very ambitious, studying hard and getting straight A’s throughout high school, college and university. What’s more, he actually remembered the things he had learnt.
The period when we were together was such a boost to my self-confidence, inspiration and creativity. It was the only time I felt I could do anything I wanted. He was the embodiment of all the motivational stuff – like if you want something you just need to work hard and believe in yourself, and you will reach it. He was the inspiring intelligent young man who is just travelling all the time, does not have to worry about money, a man who pursues his dreams by doing something he likes. And I felt that if HE liked me then I was worth something. I faced with courage a lot of challenges and setbacks and felt invincible.
He was quite critical and I once said to a friend that unlike the unconditional love, he only liked people who were good at something so if he liked me it gave me the feeling that I was indeed good at something. Unconditional love couldn’t assure you of anything. That’s what I thought. This too backfired.
When we broke up it wasn’t just him who was taken away from me – it was my feeling of my own self-worth, the self-confidence and a certain kind of overall ecstasy. It was the addictive life-style of crazy young people with no limitations. I can only compare it to a drug being taken away from me. I was mad at him because he took the ecstasy away, not because HE wasn’t there.
All the motivational stuff says you need to find hapiness within yourself and it’s true. I’m honestly working on it now.