Tuesday, Jan. 06, 2015 @ 4:42 pm
Chris, Chris, Chris. What am I doing?
He's coming into my office tomorrow for an interview. I did this. I'm creating this.
I also invited myself onto his summer backpacking trip. I'm considering doing it without D.
BUT, he's coming to my office tomorrow. For an interview. I'm pulling him into my sphere.
Every email from him is a bid. And always, without fail, I take the time to answer. I know about relationships now. I recognize a bid, and I respond.
I feel like a mad scientist, and my experiment is working. I planted the catalyst, and now it has a life of its own, welling up towards the brim in ever increasing masses of froth.
A part of my brain is telling me to retreat, that I'm showing too much of myself. We've talked every day since Saturday. But another part of my brain is telling me to pay attention to this, that all of my daydreams may not have been without cause. That he might have the same thoughts as me.
But it's complicated.
I watched Take This Waltz a few weeks ago. Utterly Canadian. You should watch it. It made me think, but at the same time that's not my situation. Chris is not new and shiny. Chris is the path that I passed every day for two years, gazed down along, and never set foot on. Always thought that it might be the right route for me but never had the courage to set forth upon it. And then life moved along.
Life has a gap in it. It just does. You don't go crazy trying to fill it like some lunatic.
Is that what I'm doing? Filling the gap?
We all know the imperfections of my relationship with D. I know that in the past I've been at the brink of ending it. We've been in counselling on and off for a year and a half. Things are OK these days, but you know what? There is a gap. We carry a lot of tension in our day to day lives. He's never entirely happy with me. He's never entirely happy with his life. The things that I've done for him, to help push him towards happiness. Moving cities, supporting through school, the countless hours of listening to him complain about other people. Telling him that joy is to be found within, and that he alone is responsible for it. It wears on me, the negativity. It crushes my spirit.
I'm not talking about the good parts of our relationship though. Those aren't as interesting to talk about. I know he loves me. I have absolute trust in him. We have had many fantastic adventures together. He knows me better than anyone else in the world. I take all of this for granted.
I want to stand up and declare that I'm done with it all. That ten years is enough. But I have to be honest with myself, that I would not leave him to be alone. I have thought about it in the past, but then the crushing reality of loneliness sets in. The crushing reality of seeing the hurt on his face.
Another part of me wants to shout out in jubilation to the world that I've finally found my soul mate. Deep down, this is what I believe but am afraid to say.
But what if he doesn't feel the same?
But what if?