Someone once told me that the best way to be with you is to be honest with you. So here it goes.
In a nutshell, I don’t want you to go. Of course I don’t want you to go.
You first asked what we are now, since we haven’t defined our relationship since February. I dodged the question because I still didn’t know. Or at least in that moment I didn’t know. I have been holding myself back from progressing, from moving this forward, because I knew you were going to leave, one way or another. And now you’re asking us to reevaluate our situation to see if this is worth our time and effort. I feel like we went on a full circle here. I didn’t want anything real because I knew this was going to end sooner rather than later. Now that it’s ending I wish this was something real. I’m pretty sure if you look up the word ‘infuriating’ in the dictionary, it’s going to show you this situation. Also look up: irony.
Then you asked me if we could keep this going when you leave. It broke my heart to say “I don’t know…” which we both know meant “No.” And at that moment, I hated myself. I hated that I was contributing to your pain. After a few more minutes, you asked again, “When I take this job, are we really over?” You asked that through your tears. You sobbing is one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever seen in my life. I buried myself in your pillow, looking away from you. I couldn’t stand to see your face as your heart continued to break. “Look at me,” you pleaded. “Let me see your face” I hesitantly lifted my face off the pillow without ever meeting your eyes. I didn’t feel like I deserved to look at you.
A few minutes later, I explained myself through whisper. “You understand, right? You understand why I’m hesitant about us?” I reminded you of PCN, of how much it sucked to not see you for 3 weeks. That was 2 months ago, when we were still kind of sort of dating (as opposed to now? I’m not really sure what our updated status is). If I couldn’t handle not seeing you for 3 weeks when I didn’t feel this strongly for you, what’s the next 5 months going to be like for me? Hell? I didn’t say that, though. All I said was, “Those 3 weeks sucked. I don’t think I can do that for 5 months.” Which was the truth; just not that whole truth, I guess. We both acknowledged the fact that our relationship’s strength lies in us being physically together, in holding hands, in laying in bed doing nothing, in falling asleep next to each other. Our best moments involve your arms around me, my fingers tangled in your hair, being so close to you I could feel my heartbeat against your chest and bounce back to me. 5 months of minimal physical time together will be detrimental to us – we knew that.
You started thanking me. “Thank you for everything. For being god to me. I learned so much from you.” You thanked me for things I don’t even remember doing, for things that I didn’t know meant a lot to you. “Thank you for driving to Wal-mart at 5 in the morning when I felt like I was dying… You did everything you could to make me feel better. No one has taken care of me like you have…. I’m never going to find that.” And I tried to be positive. “Yes. Yes you will. You’re going to find someone who’s going to take care of you and who will want to do the same things you want to do.” I don’t know why, but I felt like I was pushing you away. I continued, “I think we’re just trying to save the world in very different ways.”
My training has taught me to act composed and think logical in moments of crisis. So when we were having this conversation, I was being reasonable and almost clinical in my thinking. New relationship + 4 hour distance = no good. It wasn’t until 24 hours later when I was home in Baltimore when the tears came. A friend texted me, “Is it sinking in now?” Yes, yes it was. It was sinking in, in a fetal position, crying so hard it was hard to breathe, 8/10 pain kind of way. Yes, it was sinking in that I’m going to wake up in the morning, knowing I will not see you in the near future. It was sinking in that I won’t be able to touch you for a long time once you leave. Yes, it was sinking in that we are ending this even before we actually start. And I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I didn’t want you to leave, but of course it wasn’t my place to ask you to stay. But at the very least, I wanted to keep this going. I wanted us to keep fighting for this. And then my friend texted, “I think deep down you already fell for him. You just don’t want to admit that to yourself yet.” And in that moment, I knew. I knew that I really liked you, that I cared about you more than anyone I’ve ever been with. I’m always the last one to figure out things like this, aren’t I?
You texted me goodnight, and as a Hail Mary pass, I replied, “Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to try to make this work?” I was ready to tell you that I want this to work. That I’m willing to try. I started to type up a message saying that everything in my experience and common sense, really, is telling me that we shouldn’t. But I want to, because I can’t imagine not having this – not having you, in one form or another – anymore. But it was your turn to break me. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a new dashing resident and I’ll meet a political event organizer who’s a total babe.” Like daggers. We agreed to meet and spend more time together to talk about this. But it seemed like you already had an answer.
I know it’s only 4 hours, that it won’t be impossible to make it work, but do we really have it in us to fight for this? Do we have a strong enough foundation to make it through this? What would be the smarter thing to do – to risk the budding relationship and power through, or try to be friends and wait 5 months from now and start over?
More importantly, what do you want to do?