I think I'll start it over where no one knows my name.
One last phone call from you
it wouldn't hurt much,
just like to hear your voice
and pretend to touch
any inch of you that hasn't said
it all or read it all or sung
my life away.
Stars and Boulevards
It seems that now the mid-years are over there isn't enough to take my mind off things. More has happened in the past month than in the past six, and perhaps the heartbreak was only put on hold, postponed till it could have me all to itself. All the studying did some good, apparently, if only for a short while.
A little part of me is afraid that if I am upset too much he won't stick around.
I guess it is reasonable to say that people can only take so much negativity.
The previous boyfriend is not all gone like I would have liked things to be. Sounds harsh, but. Distance, I should think, would help in the long run. I don't know if I am allowed to say that it is unfortunate that I can't just leave (like I seem to be good at) this time around, because things happen and sometimes if you are the only one who can be there for someone else you don't just leave him in the sun. Don't know if I'm doing the right thing for everyone by hanging around, but I can't think of another way to handle this. I tell myself this mess is temporary; once he sorts his life out I'll disappear around the corner. I don't know if he will let me, but I would have to, somehow, eventually. All I have been doing is repeating myself like the idiot that I am, and still I don't know whether he gets it or not. I'm keeping myself from telling him, in plain, raw words the way things should be, but the problem always is: now is not the time. Now is never the time. So what happens?
I won't be able to take this for much longer; I don't like the loose ends hanging off the broken pieces of glass at the window. Things are still not right, and I don't know when I should start to try to fix them.
Maybe I'm a commitment phobe, unable to stay in love with someone for long. I'm too capricious, too idealistic, too easily enamoured. And because I lie too much, yeah. I lie too much. I'm trying to be as honest as I can with everyone now, but it's not easy, it's not. There are too many Other Things. This year I realised just having love is not enough. Romance should be so many other things at the same time. I'm demanding that way. Perhaps twenty years down the road I'll look back and think about this infantile, headstrong belief, but for now I'm willing to take the chance.
That was the idea I was trying to convey to the ex-boyfriend when he asked about my reason for breaking up. I told him I couldn't commit, that we are fundamentally built differently, we're just not the same, which is true, but not entirely true. I just can't be sure that he is all that I am looking for. It's too early to tell, not now, I can't. I don't want to look over my shoulder and always ask, 'What if?' This I told him, and he laughed. It's a ridiculous reason, he says, and I know that this is why I am right. Because we don't understand each other enough. Or he doesn't understand me well enough. It's not a compliment when I say it's because I'm too complex, but that last part is true. I don't even understand myself enough, that's why I have to risk doing things over again on my own. I don't need a boyfriend to always hold the umbrella in the rain, I would like to run. He never understood this part of me, this part that seems so hell bent on making the mistake for what it is. He's conservative. I just want to do it and then manage it. This is thinks childish, and maybe it is, but it is important to me. (I think I'm getting lost in my own circular reasoning, but what the hell do you need logic for in this case? It matters to me, not anyone else.)
So, I'm just going to have disappear very soon. He will never get over me at this rate, I don't know. I want him to.
About what comes after, I'm just going to have to wait and see.