Moving On, Moving Out

The sun is shining. But the clouds are rolling in. My body tried to repeat getting up early like it did yesterday, so I ended up just laying in bed trying to go back to sleep for a while this morning. I eventually made it. But of course, while I lay there in the half-light of morning, there was only one person I could think about. So I did.

And I thought about the things I need to say and how to say them because I haven't been able to but I really should. And I know he'll be upset and try to talk me out of it, and he's really good at that sort of thing. But then, if he agrees with me, he'll just say ok and walk away and that's almost worse. But I'm starting to feel like I'm not even mad anymore. I'm not fighting with him. I'm just realizing that he needs for me to let go. He needs to get on with his life without me. He seems to make progress when I'm not around stifling it.

Progress can be frightening. Because progress means I'll come back on the day to remember and I'll remember and he won't. He'll have someone else by then. If I could, I'd put a bet down on who it's going to be, but I digress. And I realize that if I'm talking to him and he's with someone else, I will have no other choice than to pack up and leave town forever. I am clearly not going to be able to move on, but I suppose I can try moving out. First I have to get down the not talking thing.

How do you not talk to the person who knows you better than anyone else? Maybe he doesn't always understand me, but at least he always listens. Or tries to. Or thinks he understands. The only person who allows my weirdness the majority of the time without complaint.

But as they say at work: Nothing is forever.