It's easy. It's easy to think of anyone but the Doctor right now. It's easy because it doesn't mean anything. I can kiss other men all day long, but it doesn't matter. The Doctor, the Doctor is more. He's more, he's more.
My feelings are so intricately involved, entwined in this Doctor business. That's the hard part. That's the part I don't want to think about. My feelings keep getting hurt. My feelings are going to continuously get hurt with his moving and my expectations being what they are.
I'm trying to cut the cord. I'm trying to be done with this. However. It feels like ending this would mean I'm missing out on this great man, and that's a hard pill to swallow. Give him up now, feel proportionately sad (as opposed to two months down the road proportionate), but know that it's okay, I'm sparing myself.
Do I want to be that person? That guarded?
We're not through; we should be. I'm neurotic, it's all or nothing with me. And clearly, it can't be all, so it has to be nothing.
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