(A happy little ditty I wrote over Memorial Day weekend. I debated whether or not to post, but ultimately this is my feelings and they need to come out.)

I keep checking my phone. There’s no messages, no missed calls. I think about texting him about a hundred times a day. But, I have no idea what I’d say. Besides, what good is a break if you are always talking? Wouldn’t that defeat the point?

I’m living in my sister’s room. My sister who lives with my parents. I bought a small clothes rack to hang a weeks worth of clothes. She cleared a drawer for me to place my non-hangable garments. Once again, my baby sister is taking care of her heartbroken sister. She’s become quite good at it I must say.

It’s the weekend. A holiday weekend no less. Instead of spending it barbequing and drinking with friends, I am spending it realizing how few friends I really do have.

When he told me he needed a break, just some time to figure out what he really wants, I cried. Then we did laundry. Then I pulled out two suitcases. I laid them both wide open on our bare mattress and stared at them and cried some more. What was I to pack for a break? The songs lyrics to a Dar Williams song came flowing into my head, “you can take anything you want.” As I stood there crying into my empty suitcases he came up behind me and hugged me. This only made me cry harder. He made me sit on his lap and said that everything was probably going to be just fine. Between sobs I told him that it wouldn’t be. A break is just the first step in a break up. He told me that I didn’t know that.

But I do.

My beautiful, sweet, clueless man. Old enough that you would expect him to know what he wants out of life. But that expectation would be wrong.

So here I am.

Planless.

Is there a chance that we will have the hollywood love story? You know, where he will realize that he can’t live without me, comes to me with flowers, a ring, and clarity of what he really wants,? I’m not holding my breath. I simply can’t afford to. My heart can’t take the disappointment that luxury of thought would entail. Instead I am trying to figure out what I will do if we don’t work out because that’s something I can control. It’s the only thing I can control. I hate that the power is in his hands. He is controlling the length of the break. He is controlling his decision. But even though I hate it, I have to honor his request for time.

God this sucks.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Summer Cute, Living with the rents, NOT light and fluffy, TMI Friday