(no subject)
Maybe it's up with the stars, maybe it's under the sea, maybe it's not very far, if this is how it's supposed to be. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be.
On Friday, Ray and I did one of our weekly us dinners/date sort of things. (Hey, we're poor and mostly have 'family' dinner at home with our flatmate.) And I told him I wanted to drive out to Albuquerque with him, then fly back to Sarasota. To which he replied "I just don't know what is going to happen, and I don't think that's a good idea." I just got really quiet. I assumed he meant he just didn't want me to come with him, because he's going to end it, and he doesn't want to try an LDR, and he didn't want to break my heart right before I fly across the country on a plane back to the home we've made in Sarasota. Instead of saying anything, I stewed. I ate my potato and leek soup, and stewed. A less than optimal decision. Because on Saturday evening, I was leaving to write a paper, while he played video games at home. I hugged him goodbye and started uncontrollably sobbing, and muttering incomprehensibly about how he should just move out of our room, and into his own room, and if he didn't love me anymore and he just was with me for convenience he should tell me and yadayadayada. Of course, to him, this seemed to be coming out of nowhere. I told him what set it off, and he just said that a friend of his (who is also moving to NM) might be driving out there with him, in which case there is no room in the car for another passenger. He told me we would go LD as long as we could be happy, loving, and not resentful or too lonely/disconnected to make it anymore. That, while he didn't know the future, we could just go with what works. I love this man. He is amazing, and never fails to say all the right things, and the things I agree with, and to thank me for doing the dishes when I wake up early, even though he promised to do them after I made dinner yesterday. And to scratch my back when I'm too anxious to sleep, and to make crude jokes in public about my armpit hair, and tell me I'm beautiful and successful, and intelligent and incredibly cute when I try to be sexy and mostly end up looking like I usually do, a classy librarian.
I am scared as hell. I think it's natural to be afraid of the future. To be anxious about the yet to be. I think I'm going to get a tattoo the weekend I graduate. Commencement and commemoration. I am not my body, but I am definitely this body it makes up an incredible part of who I am.
Also, in other news, my thesis defense went splendidly. My advisor said it was one of the most successful theses she had ever sponsored. That my defense was magnificent, and she couldn't have asked for a more hard working, creative, and eloquent sponsee. She called me her academic daughter. For all this woman's faults, she's incredible, and I couldn't have asked for more. She also called my ability to synthesize and theorize an "unexpectedly large" amount of material incredible. One of my committee members told me I should turn it into a master's thesis or dissertation. The other told me I could make it my first book. And so, Academia, here I come.
On Friday, Ray and I did one of our weekly us dinners/date sort of things. (Hey, we're poor and mostly have 'family' dinner at home with our flatmate.) And I told him I wanted to drive out to Albuquerque with him, then fly back to Sarasota. To which he replied "I just don't know what is going to happen, and I don't think that's a good idea." I just got really quiet. I assumed he meant he just didn't want me to come with him, because he's going to end it, and he doesn't want to try an LDR, and he didn't want to break my heart right before I fly across the country on a plane back to the home we've made in Sarasota. Instead of saying anything, I stewed. I ate my potato and leek soup, and stewed. A less than optimal decision. Because on Saturday evening, I was leaving to write a paper, while he played video games at home. I hugged him goodbye and started uncontrollably sobbing, and muttering incomprehensibly about how he should just move out of our room, and into his own room, and if he didn't love me anymore and he just was with me for convenience he should tell me and yadayadayada. Of course, to him, this seemed to be coming out of nowhere. I told him what set it off, and he just said that a friend of his (who is also moving to NM) might be driving out there with him, in which case there is no room in the car for another passenger. He told me we would go LD as long as we could be happy, loving, and not resentful or too lonely/disconnected to make it anymore. That, while he didn't know the future, we could just go with what works. I love this man. He is amazing, and never fails to say all the right things, and the things I agree with, and to thank me for doing the dishes when I wake up early, even though he promised to do them after I made dinner yesterday. And to scratch my back when I'm too anxious to sleep, and to make crude jokes in public about my armpit hair, and tell me I'm beautiful and successful, and intelligent and incredibly cute when I try to be sexy and mostly end up looking like I usually do, a classy librarian.
I am scared as hell. I think it's natural to be afraid of the future. To be anxious about the yet to be. I think I'm going to get a tattoo the weekend I graduate. Commencement and commemoration. I am not my body, but I am definitely this body it makes up an incredible part of who I am.
Also, in other news, my thesis defense went splendidly. My advisor said it was one of the most successful theses she had ever sponsored. That my defense was magnificent, and she couldn't have asked for a more hard working, creative, and eloquent sponsee. She called me her academic daughter. For all this woman's faults, she's incredible, and I couldn't have asked for more. She also called my ability to synthesize and theorize an "unexpectedly large" amount of material incredible. One of my committee members told me I should turn it into a master's thesis or dissertation. The other told me I could make it my first book. And so, Academia, here I come.