(no subject)
I don't think it's any strange coincidence that the 'last' post I added was in July 2008...the same month that Rachel moved in. I guess I had my own journal to talk to. Someone to have all my thoughts, spin them round and churn them back out in a (sometimes bonkers) caring and ultimately addictive way.
But what happens to all those memories that go when she moves out? Well, I guess I'll still have my bit but what about all those that I invested in her, in us, in our future life together? I've never looked into someone's eyes before and just 'seen' the endless possibilities of where we could be, what we could do. It was like in 'The End of Mr Y' where all these shared trains of emotion can take you back to where you came from; all these infinite emotions that seemed to speed out like the unfathomable acceleration of the universe.
It doesn't make me angry that she's off going for drinks with other men (well, that's a lie; it does, a punching walls and smashing cups kind of angry) but I can't help to think that with every second she spends with anyone else, she doesn't necessarily move away from me but closer to something and someone better. And it's that no knowing when that moment of realisation will hit which is the kicker.
It's the best thing that she's moving out. Sincerely. But all the posturing of 'I need time to think about this; you do too and until I believe that you know what you want, I can't trust that this relationship will work' is irritating (because it's 95% true) and even worse is the talk of the probability of a 'future' us. That's just getting my hopes up and it's cruel. But it's what I want to hear. I want to hear about these people that are just helping you not think about us for the moment and there's nothing more in it: I want to hear that I'm your best friend and nothing will change that; I want to hear that you'll never so much as sleep in the same bed as anyone else because it will just remind you of how good it felt to be together; I want her hear how much you'll cry the day you move out. But with all of these things, there's a growing glimmer of hope that these rainy days will blossom a bigger and better relationship.
Do I believe that we'll get back together? No. But that's only because I'm not the best person in the world and I'm 100% sure that there's better on her doorstep, let alone 'somewhere in the world'.
Do I believe that I've made a massive mistake? Yep.
I wrote these lines about 5 years ago; that didn't really make a lot of sense then. Now they do.
It's not how I thought it'd be
All these changes, they're too much for me
These people I meet can't see
That you've become the whole of me
But what happens to all those memories that go when she moves out? Well, I guess I'll still have my bit but what about all those that I invested in her, in us, in our future life together? I've never looked into someone's eyes before and just 'seen' the endless possibilities of where we could be, what we could do. It was like in 'The End of Mr Y' where all these shared trains of emotion can take you back to where you came from; all these infinite emotions that seemed to speed out like the unfathomable acceleration of the universe.
It doesn't make me angry that she's off going for drinks with other men (well, that's a lie; it does, a punching walls and smashing cups kind of angry) but I can't help to think that with every second she spends with anyone else, she doesn't necessarily move away from me but closer to something and someone better. And it's that no knowing when that moment of realisation will hit which is the kicker.
It's the best thing that she's moving out. Sincerely. But all the posturing of 'I need time to think about this; you do too and until I believe that you know what you want, I can't trust that this relationship will work' is irritating (because it's 95% true) and even worse is the talk of the probability of a 'future' us. That's just getting my hopes up and it's cruel. But it's what I want to hear. I want to hear about these people that are just helping you not think about us for the moment and there's nothing more in it: I want to hear that I'm your best friend and nothing will change that; I want to hear that you'll never so much as sleep in the same bed as anyone else because it will just remind you of how good it felt to be together; I want her hear how much you'll cry the day you move out. But with all of these things, there's a growing glimmer of hope that these rainy days will blossom a bigger and better relationship.
Do I believe that we'll get back together? No. But that's only because I'm not the best person in the world and I'm 100% sure that there's better on her doorstep, let alone 'somewhere in the world'.
Do I believe that I've made a massive mistake? Yep.
I wrote these lines about 5 years ago; that didn't really make a lot of sense then. Now they do.
It's not how I thought it'd be
All these changes, they're too much for me
These people I meet can't see
That you've become the whole of me