Wednesday, August 26, 2009

6 Months. Half a Year?

It’s been 6 months now. 6 months, that’s half a year. Half a year is nearly One Whole Year. So it’s kinda like a whole year has passed, right?

But I tend to skip ahead.

I do this often; skipping ahead. When I’m reading a magazine, I never start at the beginning. I flip to the end and scan backwards. At the last page of a chapter, I scan my eyes to last few sentences -- I can’t help it. When I was 29, I often told people I was 30. When it’s just the first few days of Fall, I skip ahead to February in my mind, anticipating snow to roll around in maybe a month, maybe less. I don’t know why I do this, it’s not that I dread the passing of time, maybe it’s the opposite.

So when 6 months started approaching, I began skipping ahead, thinking that a year passed. But it hasn’t been a year; just half of one.

Six months and no communication, well, at least by phone. We’ve emailed only occasionally, no calls, no visits. I think this has been the best thing for me. Not communicating has sometimes been heart-wrenchingly painful, other times it’s like living in peaceful oblivion. But it’s consistently done one thing; given me no choice but to focus only on how I’m feeling.

I will admit that there are moments when I obsess over what he’s thinking and feeling, but eventually I have to stop because I have no evidence of either thing. All I’m doing is making things up in my mind. And who can live that way? And I’ve got to thank my bestie here, without her saying to me, “You can’t live like that!”, I wouldn’t have realized that I better stop making up fantasies about him sitting on top of a pile of cash, wearing dollar sign glasses (a la Riche Riche style) record deal in one hand, skinny bitch in the other, all the while thinking, “Thank god I'm not with her anymore!”

Yeah, you can’t live that way.

So instead, I focus on myself. I moved into an adorable apartment in a cute neighborhood which more and more feels like home. I’ve got some really wonderful new neighbors, made new friends, reconnected with old friends, pushed myself to do things I would never have otherwise done, and generally relearned how to live my life with only one person in mind, me. I’m making plans for my future and I’m finding that what I need out of a friendship, a boyfriend, a job, and a life – is slowly coming into focus.

And now I'm skipping ahead again and anticipating the person I'll be when a year has past. I can picture myself even more settled, more secure. So much so that it makes me want to wait an entire year before seeing him in person. Maybe then, when I’ve become this more settled and secure self, there won’t be any chance that my resolve will break down.

Because I fear that it might.

Because no matter how confident I may feel, how much I may skip ahead, it’s really only been 6 months, not a year, not 2 years, just a matter of months; a drop in the bucket of our 9 years together.

So it's no wonder I anticipate the One Year Mark, no wonder I want to jump ahead. I want to skip to being totally confident, with no doubts, and breeze past all my "bad days," all the bad dreams, and all the times I wonder where he is. Because the feelings are still there -- all the years, all the good, all the bad -- lying under the surface, shakily waiting in the background for something to crack.

But maybe a year from now, when I’ve lived through all this, I won't crack.

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