Well….it’s been a good long while.
Last time I felt the inspiration to write, I was in a very different place.
I’d just started a new job; TJR had moved away, and we weren’t speaking; I was distracting myself with the attention of someone who was (and is) very unhealthy for me.
I was heartbroken, and hurting.
And now, a year later; here I am. Although not heartbroken this time, just fearful. Fearful that we will never get it right. That I will never feel settled. That I will always have this nagging feeling of never feeling good enough.
Let me back track a bit.
Last March, TJR and I were barely on speaking terms. He was getting settled at school, but I needed him here. I had big, life changing things happening and what I wanted more than anything was to share that with him. And it seemed as though he didn’t want any part of it. I was desperate to cling on to some hope that we would be okay, that we would make it past that rough patch and find our passion again.
St. Patrick’s Day; he blew me off. That was the last straw. Drunk, and lonely, I called my older man. I needed someone to show me I was wanted; that someone saw something in me that they wanted. Him, drunk and horny, of course responded. And I’m sure you can guess how the rest of that night went.
I woke up the next morning, with a body pressed against me that I did not recognize. Regret hung in the air, and nearly choked me to death as a panic attack set in. I’d done it. I’d slept with someone else. I’d betrayed him. There was no turning back. I’d crossed the threshold.
The next few months were filled with denial, and seeking fulfillment in all the wrong places. Older man served one purpose. Keep my mind off of TJR, and for a while it really worked. And then reality set in; I wanted love, and older man could never give me that. He could only provide a temporary catharsis that caused me to make poor choices, and wallow in self-pity.
I figured TJR had deleted my number, or even blocked me for that matter. So when I texted him in a moment of desperation, I never expected a response, let alone the one I got.
“I miss you all the time.”
“I’m back in town. Can we talk?”
I took 2 days to answer him.
Should I be going down this road? Shouldn’t I just try to move on? Do I want to open all these old wounds up again?
Yes. Because I loved him. And missed him. And a piece of me was missing that only he could put back together.
So he came over. And we fucked. And it was marvelous.
We spent every second of the summer together. He was my date to my best friends wedding, and we smiled at each other as he watched me walk down the aisle. Daydreams spinning in my own head of what our wedding would look like someday. We got drunk together at my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary, and spent 4th of July weekend with his family. We went on our first vacation together in Maine; a weekend I will never forget. We sat under the moon, as it reflected off the water at Perkins Cove, debating whether we would get caught if we had sex right there on the bench.
We were full of passion and it felt like we were never apart.
And then reality struck. School was starting again, and he would have to leave me. I cried when he left, and he assured me this was only temporary. Although we didn’t stay apart for very long; he was only gone a week before I took a trip up for a long weekend. We walked down to Lake Champlain and watched the sun set. So comfortable in each others presence; natural.
I made the trip up to see him just about every other weekend in the fall, even spending a full week up there for Thanksgiving. In his tiny little apartment we fit his mom and dad, TJR and I, his aunt and his pepe. I felt like that was a sure sign that he wanted me in his life, and a part of his family.
And then more big life stuff happened, and I was forced to move out of my apartment. Of course, the subject of me moving up there came up, and at first he was all for it. He even sent me a link to a job opening in my field right in Burlington. We seemed on the same page…
I don’t know what changed.
When I pushed the subject further, he rescinded his offer. He said it wasn’t a good idea. He said I should stay put, get some more experience. He didn’t know where he wanted to settle down yet, and didn’t want me uprooting my life with such uncertainty hanging over head.
But was he uncertain about HIS future…..or OURS?
As a frequent over thinker, you can only imagine the places my mind went. And how I reacted to his sudden change of heart. The last few months have been painted with tension, and a lack of communication. And my anxiety getting the best of me, which usually manifests in text messages that i shouldn’t send, or a build up of emotions that culminate in a fight.
I’m not sure what to think. Every time I bring up the subject of our future lately he clams up. Get’s angry, even, when I try to push for answers. I’m feeling less and less confident that he feels the same way about me, as I do about him.
I know I am holding on too tight, but it’s only because I can feel him slipping away. But the harder I hold on, the more suffocated he feels. It’s a vicious cycle. And I’m afraid it will break us.
I love him. With all of my being. I just want to know he loves me too. And then I can take a sigh of relief.