I’ve been in a real mood lately and I really don’t know what’s been causing it. If you think about it, I should be happy… but I’ve been nothing but depressed for the past week. I’ve been so lucky to have such great friends in my life, to have such great opportunities1, to have such a loving, understanding and caring family… and to have been able to experience love only fairytales speak of. But. I’m sad. All I feel like doing is crawling in a corner of my bedroom, putting on my saddest music, holding my favourite pillow and crying. I don’t have it bad at all, in fact I have a million reasons to be happy.
I miss Peter and I think it’s the largest cause of my sadness. After his vacation here this summer, I realized that maybe he does actually feel somewhat the same way that I feel about him and at first it made me so happy. But now that I’ve decided to, as they put it in those romantic movies we girls love to watch so much, wait for him… I’ve become depressed. Why does it have to be so complicated… these matters of the heart? Just when I think I have it figured out, something completely throws me for a loop!
I think it was better when I was desperately trying to get over him, fully knowing that it would never happen. I just don’t know what it is about him, but something definitely draws me to him. It’s not like there aren’t other options. It’s not like it’s the only choice I have, but it’s the choice I want to make – and wanted to make from the very beginning.
That’s not completely true. When we first met, I was with someone. Someone who I’d spent three years of my life with. But something wasn’t right, and I made things even more wrong so we ended things. And the first time I found out he was interested in me, I wasn’t interested in anything serious but somehow I was suddenly in this relationship that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be in, with someone I barely knew. But he was confident, charming and funny, and it was the summer so I thought what the hey. The summer was great fun: going out and getting drunk almost every night after work2; great laughs at work that made working hard less hard; volleyball, poker and canoeing at his friend’s cottage; unbeatable passion; amazing conversations… but I was resigned to it just being a summer fling. And when we decided to move in together because I needed a room-mate and he needed a place to stay as his sublet was up in Mid-August I really didn’t think anything of it.
He was so happy about the idea of us living together: he started to call it our home and telling me that he loved calling it that. It made me love it too; it washed away any doubts I had about us and I started to fall. Moving in made it seem more permanent, like the intense feelings I felt during the summer fling began to etch their way deeper into my heart. And before I knew it I was so in love with this man that it made me cry. And that’s where it started to go bad…
I knew he was leaving in March/April when his one year Visa expired and I had no idea whether or not he would stay, but the bigger cloud over my head was whether or not we were going to stay together if and when he did go back home. He never wanted to talk about it because it hurt too much to think about. And I didn’t want to hurt this person that I loved so much so I never pushed to talk about it – until it was too late. We fought so much in the last months before he left, we even fought on Christmas Eve. And it wrecked the relationship for him, he couldn’t see it working. We broke up a week before Valentine’s Day and he moved out. We got back together just before Valentine’s Day and spent a magical night at the Delta Chelsea. He moved back in a week later and everything was good again.
Or so I thought, they were good because he was keeping things bottled up inside whenever he’d get upset about something instead of bringing it up so that we wouldn’t fight. But it made matters worse and one night, it all came exploding out. We broke up again for good, but he didn’t move out since he was leaving the country so soon anyway. He was going to move out, but I convinced (begged and pleaded) him not to. There was some argument (not between us) about whether or not I should drive him to the airport or not… eventually he picked me over his (Canadian) bestfriend. It was the worst drive home of my entire life. I cried for as long as I can remember… but we talked long distance almost everyday. If not on MSN, then on the phone or through text messages. He missed me and it felt great… but he made it clear that he didn’t want to get back together especially since it would be long distance. I was upset, but I eventually accepted it.
His reactions are different this time around, but somehow I’m still not sure where we stand – and I’m sure he doesn’t either. When I told him about how, despite my feeling good while at the Labour of Love concert at the Guvernment this past Sunday, I didn’t want to dance with any of the hot guys that would come up to me and ask because the only person I wanted to dance with was him he actually gave a little, “Yay”. Whereas, in the past it would have been an “Awh” meaning, “That’s sweet, but you don’t have to because I don’t want you to.” But does that mean that we’re together? I doubt it. And if we’re not… then I want to be free to see other people. Is that selfish of me? Probably, huh?
It’s driving me crazy not knowing where exactly we stand, but I don’t want to ask because I’m afraid of the negative answer. But I need to know… because if the answer is the answer that I want to hear then at least I know I can focus on my studies and work. Why can’t I do that anyway? Because I don’t want to give up an opportunity to have fun right now… I’m taking 7 courses and have to work a part time job. I need all the fun I can get! Maybe, I’ll get the courage to ask him… next week.