I couldn't sleep last night. I'm the obsessive compulsive sort. I obsess over things I cannot change, it is true. While out with the Doctor and friends last night, the topic of his chances of moving came up. They are very good. May. In May, if he gets this job, he is moving. Across the country.
Well good for him. Yes. That is exciting. I would move too, if given an opportunity (...still waiting for that job opportunity).
However, what does that do to us? We've had dates, we're dating in the loosest sense. We're not an item, couple, whatever the kids are calling it these days. But, we're something quite lovely, that I feel could become even more lovely.
Essentially, I have finally met a man who lives in the same city as me (I keep somehow finding myself drawn to men who live far, far away), and I like him and he likes me and he's well-spoken and nerdy and chivalrous and polite and- he's going, he's leaving.
And sure, I can ride this out, knowing it has an expiration date; I can accept this and enjoy what this is now. But, I know myself. I know myself far too well and I know that this feeling will not dissipate, but fester. Resentment will grow, I will pick apart all of his actions, question his motives, obsess over the details. I will punish him for this moving, his career aspirations (how dare he!), I will kiss other boys and lie to him all because I can't accept this.
I know myself.
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