(no subject)
So Alan is back in New Zealand, and it only just now occurs to me that I never changed my default icon away from the one I generally use for "Alan is away." Morgan came in this morning and looked over at his side of the bed. Seeing it empty, she heaved a big sigh and said, "Alan is still disappeared."
I feel like I should be sad and gloomy, but actually I'm fine. I could maybe make myself cry if I tried, but... yeah. It just is. And that's not me _making_ myself accept it because it's what needs to be done. Well, honestly, that probably is indeed a factor. But I think it's mostly that I've hit that point in a relationship where all the high-flown melodrama just... blows away. Now perhaps I've just grown accustomed to his face complacent in these past two months, but last night we were both online, but we didn't really talk. It was nice to just know he was there, doing his thing and I was doing mine. I can remember a time not too long ago that I was frantic for every single second, I _had_ to talk to him. Late into the night, middle of the day at school, any time I was on a computer I fired up Messenger and was on the edge of my seat until I found out if he was on or not. I'd open my email to check for any "I love you" messages first thing in the morning, still in my pajamas, before breakfast or waking up Morgan or anything.
And I actually like this now. Because as high as I was whenever he was online or I had mail from him, I was that low whenever he _wasn't_ online. And now I've got some equilibrium, and it's pretty groovy. I think this is what growing up feels like.
I feel like I should be sad and gloomy, but actually I'm fine. I could maybe make myself cry if I tried, but... yeah. It just is. And that's not me _making_ myself accept it because it's what needs to be done. Well, honestly, that probably is indeed a factor. But I think it's mostly that I've hit that point in a relationship where all the high-flown melodrama just... blows away. Now perhaps I've just grown accustomed to his face complacent in these past two months, but last night we were both online, but we didn't really talk. It was nice to just know he was there, doing his thing and I was doing mine. I can remember a time not too long ago that I was frantic for every single second, I _had_ to talk to him. Late into the night, middle of the day at school, any time I was on a computer I fired up Messenger and was on the edge of my seat until I found out if he was on or not. I'd open my email to check for any "I love you" messages first thing in the morning, still in my pajamas, before breakfast or waking up Morgan or anything.
And I actually like this now. Because as high as I was whenever he was online or I had mail from him, I was that low whenever he _wasn't_ online. And now I've got some equilibrium, and it's pretty groovy. I think this is what growing up feels like.