Time flies…
At the end of this week, my boyfriend leaves for vacation for a week or so. When he gets back, he’s giving his two weeks notice at work and after that he’ll be moving to Houston, TX.
Our time together, effectively, is almost over.
There are days when I’m “ok” and there are days when I’m not. In between are the days where certain points of the day I’m ok and others I’m not.
What good does it do to cry about it? He’s leaving and all the crying in the world won’t change it.
When I’m “ok” with it, really just means that I think about the time we’ve spent together, how there were no pressures or expectations put on each other, and how if we are going to be a full-fledged “couple” that there would be more expectations from each other. I know I want someone who will give as much as I will to the relationship. I want someone who will love me back. I deserve it, too. I also don’t want it from just anyone. I want that from him. He can, but it’s a question of willing - not ability.
We haven’t talked anymore about what will happen after he leaves. I haven’t been avoiding or glossing over the details of his move. I’m preparing myself for it to be over, for good. It’s difficult and it’s sad but it’s supposed to be. Mostly I’ve just been withdrawing further and further from outside life. I talk myself in to getting up and leaving the house for work. I talk myself in to being “present” for my son. I talk myself in to chatting with friends. But my heart isn’t really in it except for the time with my son.
I’ll get through it, as much as it hurts right now. It will take time and I’m willing to give that to myself. I know it would work for us if we both wanted and were willing to stay together.
I’m not going to beg and I’m not going to plead, either. I want someone who is here because of their own choices. He knows I am a good woman and that I would be good to him. I don’t know if he realizes that I’m a good woman because I choose to be. I choose to be good to him, every day, every time. It’s not just luck that makes it work.
If he’s not willing to accept that and meet me halfway with his own choices, then I know that moving on is the right choice to make. It’s not fair to either one of us to continue otherwise.
I just have to keep telling myself that, as many times as it takes, for as long as it takes.
