Well, I haven’t written in a while because there has been a lot going on. I put my house up for sale last week. I don’t know where we are going to go or even if it will sell in the condition it is in, but I am ready to move on.
At first I was super excited to find a house near T. Then, I thought, we could finally be together. My mom wasn’t as excited. Not only did she not really want to move to T’s town, and I don’t blame her, but she said I was making it too easy on him. We are not even engaged. She’s right, as usual.
T doesn’t seem to get it. The closer I get and the more I try to be with him the flaker and more distant he gets. I tried to talk to him, ask him if I was pushing him or moving too fast. You know, 2+ years shouldn’t be enough time, right?!
It really hurt(s) me. I mean, if he doesn’t want to make an effort to be with me then why am I trying so hard? What would happen if I got really sick? I already was on the fence about having kids but when I think about having them with T it is like NO. I don’t want to do it all by myself and, as it is, that is what I would end up doing.
Don’t get me wrong. I think T loves me the best he can. But what if that isn’t enough? What if his ‘spontaneous’ (i.e. no planning or commitments) lifestyle isn’t something I can swing with in the long term?
I’m pretty easy to get along with. I’m super adaptable and can hang with pretty much anyone. I’m… easy.
Maybe too easy.
I just don’t like to make a big deal out of things and I always feel like it is just my perception that is off.
“It’s not really that bad.”
“He didn’t really ignore me for a whole week.”
“He needs a lot of time for himself; I shouldn’t be so demanding.”
“He isn’t feeling well; I should be more careful about what I say and do so I don’t upset him.”
“Things never seem to go right for him.”
Creepily, these are all real thoughts I’ve had. I have seen ideas like this before in abusive relationships. I never thought I’d have them.
I’m not saying he’s abusive, but he’s not doing me right.
I started writing notes, daily, on how I feel, what I have accomplished, and what T has done or said. Just short things like “feeling sad” or “T has headache” or “wrote a lot today”.
The more I think about T the worse my day is. The more I work and don’t have time to think the better I feel.
I don’t think it is right to be planning contingencies when you spend the weekend with a long distance boyfriend. Like “if he wants to sleep I’ll clean the kitchen out” or “if he gets overwhelmed we can go for a drive to get him away from the situation.”
It goes beyond even that though.
I have been thinking about marrying T. What would my life be like? In dream land we would open our coffee shop, work hard together, and have a blast.
In real life I can’t see him working hard for that long. It would interest him for a bit and then he’d be on to the next thing or hanging out with the customers and leaving the work up to me. He wouldn’t be able to get up early and cook, he… I’m just depressing myself. You get the idea.
In reality, I see myself living in a rundown house that I wouldn’t have picked because he likes it and is comfortable there. In a city that’s equally run down, with people to match. I would spend time in my garden, working, and in a small, dark room telecommuting. I would be the one to keep the house clean except the toilets and the yard mowing, one because I refuse and the other because ‘it would look bad for a woman to mow’. Junk would pile up as he drug it home from trash piles in front of people’s houses and he’d refuse to throw it away because it was ‘good’.
Essentially, I’d end up being his mom. That’s what her life is like with his dad; with the exception of travelling for work conventions, which T doesn’t really like to do, and visits to Disney which is just about her only happy place.
She’s not happy. T knows it. I just don’t understand it. T hates the way his dad is, why is he copying him? I mean, he’s not really, because his dad works all the time and T doesn’t and T isn’t mean to me the way his dad is to his mom sometimes, but…
His life is becoming a mirror of his dad’s.
It kills me.
I’m pulling away. I can’t leave him, not now. I’m not strong enough. But I can back away to ‘friend’ status in my mind. I can say no more. I can think about him less. I can move on with my own life.
I can fake things pretty good. I’ve been doing it for a long time. I had just hoped…
But he’ll be happy with the change, I think. Less pressure on him. Less responsibility. He’ll probably get happy again, less shadowed as he’s lately seemed.
If the house sells, I’ll find a nice rental house for the family somewhere close. They can stay here.
I’ll move in with a roommate for a while near them, let them get a feel for not having me around every day all day.
Then, later, I’ll find where I’m supposed to be. I’ll find my pretty place. My yellow house. Or I’ll travel to look for it.
I’m glad I put the house up for sale. It was the motivation I needed. I’m cleaning it up. I’m going to move forward in my life, with or without him.