Her Own Time

I never understood what it means to give time. I always thought 'giving time' was just about waiting... but it’s not. Time is a context we create to allow things to unfold. Give time to that thing, not force it! Give it time to think. Over time, things fall into place. Everything takes time, nothing comes overnight. And yet, how do you know when the right time is today and not tomorrow, when things don't fall into place by themselves or through a miracle, when some things need to be done "in time" so they don’t fall into oblivion or to show their importance? Today, I was asked to give time:

"Give me time to sort out all these problems. I don't want to lose you, if I wanted that, I wouldn’t have insisted so much from the beginning," she said, trying to let go of her impulsiveness.

"Take all the time you need," I said, slightly hesitant.

I never understood why I have to say something, just so I don’t say something worse, but maybe more truthful. I didn’t want to put pressure on her, only to later regret that I forced something, this relationship, which had become just a need to understand what actually happened. After all, even if we remained friends, I wouldn’t want the feeling that I tried to control it. Finally, I think what I should have told her is that for me, time is not the issue, but the emotional distance between us, which obviously we don’t know how to manage, was the main source of our problems. And that, for the sake of what we’ve achieved together, I will try to respect her decision. Time, apparently, is never about time; it’s about what happens in that time. She just wanted to tell me that she needs an indefinite period of time to be alone, during which she may not feel the need to contact me, in order to sort things out. But we see how it’s easier to assign tasks to time, to delegate our responsibilities to it. Even if she will make considerable efforts, it’s much easier to say that if things don’t go right, there wasn’t enough time. Is there ever enough time?

I call my best friend:

"Ramo, usually when you're unsure whether you want to continue something, you say you need more time, right?"

"Depends… but usually, yes."

"And when you don’t need time at all to make a decision?"

"When I’m clear about what I want and I’m willing to do everything in my power to get there. But why are you asking me all this?"

"I think I’m breaking up with her, and I’m scared that she doesn’t know she has the power to get there."

"Where is 'there'?"

"To what we’ve envisioned for our relationship. She told me to give her time, but I’m not sure she understands that during this time, she needs to figure out her possibilities, and that it no longer depends entirely on me."

"How do you feel?"

"That I’d be fooling myself if I believe a change for the better will happen. Maybe, but she doesn’t know she can, even though she sees she deserves to make those changes. The fact that she doesn’t see it is the biggest problem."

"But did you tell her what she could do, based on what she is capable of?"

"Yes, but that’s the problem."

"Why?"

"Because she felt it was being imposed on her. The fact that it didn’t come from her makes her reject it from the start."

"You’re dealing with a pretty complicated person."

"Yes. Breakups from the first bad signals are like a test. That’s when you really see who the person is."

"That’s a valid point of view."

"Thanks, Ramo. I’ll keep you posted, ok?"

"Please do."

A few minutes later she calls me:

"How are you?"

"I’m trying to focus my energy on the article I need to submit in the coming days. You?", feeling the need to be distant.

"I’ve quit handball for good. I can’t keep getting injured, it’s killing me going to the hospital every month. I’m too fragile, my bones, everything, I don’t know."

"I understand, how are you otherwise?"

"I’m fine otherwise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just the handball thing and the inspection are bothering me, but otherwise I’m ok."

"Sure?"

"And the problem with us."

"Aha. Why did you want to ignore it?"

"I don’t think I can accept that we have a problem. Not again. I really have feelings for you."

"A problem doesn’t mean something so bad. It can open our eyes. Don’t you want to know the truth about us?"

"I didn’t think it could be this unbearable. I feel like a disappointment."

"You can’t be that. To be that means you’ve done something with ill intent, which isn’t the case."

"I don’t know, I don’t know what to do, that’s why I need time."

Again, this "time". The problem with "I need time" wasn’t solved back in high school, apparently. The more time passes, the more misunderstandings are added and it grows. Thinking you’ve understood the meaning of an expression when everything is so fluid is the biggest illusion I observe. A word is just like the world. That’s why I always find it amusing to think that maybe a psychologist should first ask you for your own dictionary with your definitions of terms at the first session.

And since I didn’t want to tell her what she could do with that time:

"Sure, take as much time as you need," I said with uncertainty.

"Thanks! I’m going to think about it all evening tonight."

"I appreciate it."

I never thought I’d have such a dry conversation. It was polite and without pressure, but it felt like it drained my soul. Still, I knew I shouldn’t force things.

"I wouldn’t have distanced myself from you if you hadn’t told me I have too many problems and it’s affecting you," she said, as if she took everything personally.

"It affected me that you were so fixated on me because of them. And how you kept acting superior with me, like I wouldn’t understand, I said it was too much for me. Hiding them from me, you know very well it’s not a solution. Why lie that I wouldn’t prefer to help you with them, when I know it could be so easy?"

"It’s not easy for me."

"That’s because you’re more in a relationship with your problems."

"If I don’t solve them, they’ll affect both of us."

"They’re already affecting us by trying too hard to solve them. Wouldn’t it be better to focus on preventing them?"

"How? Tell me how?"

"I told you, but you said you can’t give up your lifestyle, that, for better or worse, you have somewhere to go, etc."

"Anyway, I’ll leave you."

"Fine."

This ending left such a bitter taste that for a moment, I thought I had gone back to middle school. Scrolling later on Instagram, I came across a post that said that the saying "don’t trade the bird in your hand for the crow on the fence" is often used by those who haven’t wanted to take any risks in life and have stayed in the same place, without evolving. I thought that for her, I’m the crow. And the crow isn’t exactly the most likable. I haven’t always said things in a way that wouldn’t make her take them personally. Sometimes I didn’t even know she could take them personally.

Later, I wrote her a message:

"Isn’t it true that no matter how understanding I am, you won’t trade the bird in your hand? No matter how many problems you have, you’ve gotten used to them, to this rhythm. It’s hard, but at least it’s familiar."

"Maybe…"

"I think that’s the reality."

"I didn’t see it that way."

"Maybe you need to take a step back and look at yourself through the eyes of others."

"Everyone told me I’ve become arrogant because of my problems."

"And did you feel there’s some truth in what people say?"

"Yes, and that’s why I’m upset."

"It’s okay."

"It’s not okay at all. Do you think it’s easy for me to change that?"

"No."

"Mhm."

"What do you expect from me now? Just to understand and sacrifice my well-being once again? I told you it affects me. If this is how you’re managing your problems now, they won’t disappear. And then, I wonder why you’d manage them differently with me? It’s about me in this relationship too."

"But also about me. You don’t have as many problems."

"Oh, and should I be chill then and keep my mouth shut? And my problems are much smaller than yours? How do you know that if you don’t even care to listen to what I’m dealing with when I try to tell you what I’m going through?"

"If you say you understand my situation, why are we having this conversation?"

"Because it’s not enough to understand you, I can’t live like a figurine in your display case. I understand you, but I can’t accept it. Do you know how that sounds? You understand your mom, for example, because she’s your mom after all, but that doesn’t mean you accept her behavior. Your attitude is harming you first and foremost."

"…"

"There’s a fine line between being angry, sad, frustrated, and being arrogant. Arrogance arises when you think you know for sure that you don’t need to go through all of this. How do you know you don’t need to? How would we develop without challenges? And who should you take it out on? On those who pay attention to you? Did they create your problems?"

"I understand."

"But do you accept it?"

"I don’t know, give me time to process all this, please."

Well, finally, the idea of giving time made sense. The thought process doesn’t give a result immediately, it doesn’t happen instantly. I know we’re not robots, but in her case, it didn’t seem like that was the problem. So I preferred to ask her:

"Do you want time because you feel like you need to justify yourself to me and it’s stealing your freedom, your identity, or is it something else, and even though you know how things are, you don’t want to seem inferior? Look, we’re not in a competition."

"I don’t know."

Maybe she didn’t know, but something she knew for sure:

"I’m going to set everything aside for a few days and think about it, okay?"

Why did I feel that, on the surface, it was okay to understand the need for space, for time? It seems like the two are used interchangeably. Strange, isn’t it? Need for freedom of movement… We could very well say, "Give me monkeys, leaves, anything!". The meaning of this expression still wouldn’t be clarified, because in fact, it simply means "leave me alone!".

But on a deeper level, I felt it was the frustration of getting into something she couldn’t control now, something bigger than she expected, and it hurt her pride. And that, in fact, it wasn’t about time, space, or movement at all, but about the need to freeze outside of them, which, at best, delayed the reality, so to speak. It was about avoiding the reality that time forces you to confront. And that’s where the real struggle lies: not the waiting, but the fear of facing what’s really happening. A void where she didn’t have to face anything, even though, obviously, this need only accelerated overthinking. Because all her problems taught her that. Wanting to solve them, but getting used to solving them, she always needs to recreate the context that pushes her to solve, which is to say, problems. So it’s no surprise that sometimes, if she doesn’t have them, she prefers to create them.

I preferred to tell her everything I had on my mind now, risking putting even more pressure:

"What’s stopping you from doing it now?"

"You, because you expect this from me and it makes me feel incompetent. Do you want me to give you a stupid answer?"

"No, but who said you’re incompetent? And why would you give me a stupid answer? It’s not like you hate me…"

"It’s not about that. But I can’t think of everything at once."

"You’re not in school here, no one’s incompetent if in those 10 minutes they don’t give the best answer possible, we’re here like in a thread, something new always gets added to the understanding of the situation. But do you think this is more possible in a monologue inside your head? I’m not rushing anywhere, but I have to tell you honestly that it seems like you’re actually creating your own cage. That’s the need for time, space, and movement you’re talking about. When all this conflict between us comes from the fact that you couldn’t stand making a mistake? When have I ever judged you for a mistake? I’d prefer not to judge you even for not accepting to make mistakes, but if you’re acting arrogantly with me, I’d rather tell you that it feels like arrogance. And I can’t accept it. Because yes, that’s at the heart of not accepting mistakes: 'I’m good enough, I don’t accept making mistakes, being seen as stupid, learning something from it, and growing. Where should I grow? I’m good enough as I am'. If you don’t understand these things, no amount of time, space, etc. will help you. No freedom..."

"I can’t talk anymore."

"I’m sorry. I know that after I said all this, you don’t feel close to me anymore, but these are things that needed to be said."

"I’ll leave."

"Alright."

For that reason, I felt like I could understand what it meant to give time. Because that time was finally her own time.