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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Wednesday, May. 29, 2013 @ 12:26 pm
I'm grumpy, restless, frustrated, and I know exactly why.
I wear a ring already
I'm steady in love with another man
I think I'm really ready
But I can't stop touching your hand
I was talking with my dad on Mother's Day, and he told me that he ran into Chris' dad on the street, that Chris moved to Calgary for work and to be near the mountains.
I drafted an email to Chris that night and left it sitting in my drafts folder. Why was I writing this? My heart thumping thinking about him. I decided to just leave it, him, alone.
Three days later, he emails me. I read it carefully, knowing how carefully he chooses his words. His first sentence was nearly word for word the same as the starting sentence of my draft email.
I think about him thinking about me and writing an email. Him realizing that he left Vancouver in the same month that I returned. The kilometers we've walked together in the forest, the hours side-by-side at the laboratory bench.
I wonder if he emailed me to wonder if I was still in a relationship with Daniel. He has to feel that way. He has to feel that way.
He's the one person that I think about, the one person that I'd go to if I were to end up alone. We grew up three blocks apart. I've seen his childhood bedroom, stood in his front yard under dripping cedars.
He makes me laugh and yearn for adventure. He is nothing to look at, but his height is comforting, his body supple and strong, his smile contaigous.
And then I remember that he's Catholic. And that I'm not. And that we've never talked about this.
Why do I do this to myself? Why do I even consider what ifs?
Why are Daniel and I not married after being together for nearly 8 years?
Daniel is never happy. He lets other people's actions get to him. He gets caught up in small things that don't matter. He's always looking ahead to the next thing without enjoying the moment.
At times, I feel trapped by this.
But everything else works.
I don't know. I write this here as an outlet. No relationship is perfect. Nobody is perfect. I do know that I don't love Daniel as passionately as I could, as I have loved in the past. That I feel guarded around him, that his restlessness bothers me more that I let myself admit. That he occasionally tells me how much he loves me, but I don't feel it on a daily basis. That I don't always look forward to seeing him. That mornings are terrible and we push past each other miserabley. That I sleep on the far side of the bed, with a pillow pulled tight over my head, and that we haven't had sex in over a month. That I'm mad about his pile of clothes in the closet, the perpetual toothbrush on the bathroom counter, the amount of money he spends on records. That I want more time alone, more time to myself, because I can't relax with his restlessness around me.
In the end, I have to make a decision for myself. Commit to this or let it go. And Chris can't be part of that equation, because I don't know that he is even interested in me in that way. That I have to be fair to Daniel, that either I want to be with him or without him. That I'd need to be alone after him, and alone for a while.
I could commit. I could forget about everything else and decide that this is the last relationship of my life. I could.
I had, until Chris emailed me.