( . . . continued from previous)
I'm not in the greatest headspace today because of something that Dustin and I talked about over the weekend. He said he thinks he wants to take most of our travel time over the next few weeks as "a break." He wants to still call me on Thanksgiving, and he still wants me to drive up to see him and meet his family on Saturday, but he wants to go no contact Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and then the duration of his family trip to the Caribbean that he's going on from 12/3–12/8.
He said that it is torturous for him to be apart from me, and he's realized that calls and texts don't really help, so he wants to try the opposite—maybe if he takes some space from talking to me, it'll both make our time apart more bearable and also help him work through some feelings about the whole situation.
He said that he loves me more and more each day, and the more that he loves me, the harder it gets for him to "share" me. He said he doesn't blame me, because I've done nothing wrong, and it's true that he knew the situation going in. He'd been hopeful that he could make it work for him, but he's still not sure that he can, and he thinks that taking some space to think about it without being directly under the influence of my communication would be helpful to him.
I am obviously not happy about this, though I intend to respect his boundaries. I feel that I am getting a very mixed message from his still wanting me to drive up and stay with him at his family's. Like, "Hey, come meet my fam but also maybe we should break up."
He did say that he doesn't
want to break up with me—that he feels like we have something special together, and it's unlike anything he's ever had with anyone. But the situation is starting to feel toxic to him. He said it's nothing that I'm doing, and it's probably all on his end. He just needs to do some soul-searching about whether or not he can keep it up, for how long, and (if he does decide he can't keep it up) whether he should try to ride it out till he can't take it anymore or cut it off as soon as he reaches that realization.
So I guess I wait, trying to make the most of it in the meantime while he figures his shit out.
And speaking of people who are trying to figure their shit out, I am at once excited to see my family and also a little nervous because I imagine that spending time around little kids is going to help aid me in my own decision on the kid thing. Since that has such a bearing on the future of my marriage (and by extension, the entire logistical side of my life), the idea of getting closer to a decision is somewhat nerve-racking, even though I obviously
do need to make it, and relatively soon—within a matter of months.
On the Rider end of things, he's having fun in Florida. I think he still has vague plans to try to hook up with my old roommate, Anna, which I am still uncomfortable with but not going to try to stop him. I am even less comfortable with it now that I got the IM she sent me Saturday night after Dustin and I got back from our art show outing: "Are you and Rider still together? It doesn't look that way on social media, and it hasn't since before your birthday."
Like. WT-actual-F. She knows that it'd be common news and knowledge (not to mention acknowledged directly on social media by no longer listing him as my husband) if we broke up. I'm certain she was referring to the fact that I posted pics up that day of Dustin and I hiking and attending the art show. But it's not like there aren't pics of Rider up on my page, too. I've posted pics of Rider from Halloween, from Oona's party, from random nights out, etc. Not as many as I've posted of Dustin, because we haven't been on any trips lately and because I post pics of Dustin playing music, but whenever Rider is playing music, I'm playing too. But what a bitchy, passive aggressive thing to say! And sticking her nose right where it doesn't belong!
The fact that Rider wants to sleep with someone like that, who was also bitchy to me during much of our tenancy as roommates . . . it just rubs me the wrong way. But I know that it truly affects nothing in the big picture, so I'm trying not to focus on it.
So, yeah, I'm not on top of the world today.
I'm actually really nervous about the Dustin thing. I don't know what will happen if he breaks up with me. Even though he's been in my life for only about five months, I find it very hard to picture my life without him. He has changed me, changed my perspective on a bunch of things, and even changed my understanding of what is possible in relationships.
I started out thinking that there were a ton of things about him that were likely to be deal-breakers and impediments to anything serious: our opposite schedules, his texting habits, and his reputation as a bit of a dog and a playboy being chief among them. But, as it turns out, the first thing was totally surmountable, the second he was willing to change, and the third was rumor based on circumstance.
In the meantime, he has taught me so much about patience, sex, the importance of common ground, reserving judgment, interpersonal interactions, and a slew of other things. I feel like I've learned more from being with him about what I
do want out of a relationship in the past six months than I've learned in the vast majority of my past relationships over a much longer time period.
And I don't know where else I'd find it all except for in the beautiful package that is Dustin. I feel like my life would be strangely hollow without him in it. I'd
survive, sure. But I don't think it'd be as rich a life, and I don't mean in the monetary sense—I mean I don't think it would be as satisfying, as adventuresome, as sensual, as instructional. He's a one-of-a-kind treasure.
He asked me late Saturday night, in bed, after we'd already put our books down and turned the lights off and were just lying there holding each other:
"Do you know who you are and what you want?"
"I'm not even sure I understand the question," I replied, after a moment's hesitation.
"Who you are—do you feel comfortable in your own skin?" he clarified.
"Oh, that, absolutely," I said. And it is true. It maybe wasn't true even as recently as last December. I often felt to some degree like an empty vessel waiting to be filled by some greater purpose, a reactive chameleon that easily adapted to the desires of those around me. But over the past year, I've changed. I've better learned how to
listen to myself, even if (out of bad habit) I don't always act on what I hear.
"And what you want—what does a Reverie want out of life?" he asked.
"That, I'm still figuring out," I replied. "To switch to a job that doesn't bore me. To learn more about plants. To do the things that make me happy: read, write, cook, learn, spend time outdoors. I'm trying to decide whether I want to have kids. All I really want is just to be happy—nothing fancy."
"Work is work," he said. "It's always going to be boring sometimes."
"Yeah, but I'm hoping to find something that I can listen to audiobooks when it bores me, haha. That way it doesn't feel like torture. What do
you want?"
"It's still the same: a little plot of land where I can have a modest house and a garden. A couple of kids. Some animals . . . " he trailed off, like he was picturing it.
"Do you think you can make that happen?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. "Plenty of people dumber than me manage to figure that out. It's not like it's a big, extravagant dream. I'd have to make a lifestyle change. I've always thought it'd be fun to be a postman. I'm feeling kinda over playing music for money . . . again."
I pictured him in the postal service outfit and giggled because he already wears blue most of the time. And we both sighed and snuggled closer and fell asleep. But his questions have been rattling around in my brain. "Do you feel comfortable in your own skin?" Yes. "And what does a Reverie want out of life?" What, indeed?
