Throughout my life, I have been better than most at controlling my emotions and what I show to any given person. That's in part where my tendency to be vague comes from; if I don't want you to see it, you wont. I've experienced a few moments in my life when all that was ripped away from me, but they've been very few and very far between. And none worse I think, than this past weekend.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Not everything has been bad, but it's all been slow and these 2 weeks have felt more like a month in themselves than the entirety of August.
A helpful piece of information here is this; when I feel deeply unsatisfied or disparate, I don't stick around. I sell what I can, pack up what I need, and take an adventure to a new place. This has, in the past, included leaving a relationship or two.
Naturally in this context, breakups are rather sudden and decisive. There's no lingering and each is left to handle their own and move on. I'm a smart girl with feet that go all the way down to the floor and if something doesn't make me happy, I use them. I've had my fair share of heartbreaks, I've always preferred the "quick and clean" nature of such departures.
I believe communication is a very important part of good relationships, so I've always made sure to use it in mine. But instead of leaving when my attempts to fix things didn't work, I stayed. For a lot of different reasons, really, but I stayed. I care about the man very much and this has been by far, the best relationship I've ever had. Understandably, I wanted to try and make it work for as long as I could. So I stayed.
That is not to say however, that I never felt the urge to leave. That deep need to get out has been squashed a bit by the current realities I let myself get into. For the first time in my life, I was dealing with a lingering ending. Not only am I outstandingly unequipped to handle such a situation, I know no one else that has ever dealt with a mutual, deeply sad, drawn-out break. No one that is, save for one person that, I really, really did not want to ask. Among a few other reasons for my reluctance, was the fact that he's a friend to us both, so I didn't want to put him in a strange, awkward, uncomfortable, or really any unpleasant adjective-type position. So to avoid it, I asked the few people I'm comfortable opening up to, but I already knew the answer.
Shortly after my last post, I caved and asked for his story. He's a good friend, so sweet as ever, he instantly got back to me and told me his story - what happened, how he dealt with it, and all that jazz. And it did help, in a way. It mostly told me what I already suspected and that this was going to get harder before it gets easier.
At this point, the decision had been reached that we can take a break from the relationship and I can look forward to the things I've wanted to move forward to. 4 months to step away and be preoccupied with me and what I want to do, while he focuses on him, and if we end, then we end.
As cruel as it may sound, I am looking forward to this more than I have anything else in a long time. My best friend will be living with me and doing much the same self-improvement things with her time as I am with mine.
It really can't get here fast enough.
And that's where the problem lies.
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