Reflecting

Jay and I have had a rough week.

It's all still a bit of a jumble in my head where it all went weird, but it had to do with his future and his uncertainty about parts of it and me and my anxiety and insecurity making me feel like he was leaving before we'd even met.

And I think I probably didn't handle how I was feeling very well, I mean, not terribly, but not particularly well either, and we're both tired (staying up late, getting up early to talk to each other) and so we sort of sorted through that problem but then something else came up and I, now looking back, overreacted and didn't pause to take a breath.

So there was a particularly bad day or two this weekend and just as I was about to offer to give Jay some space, some time to just be, he asked if he could have a few days to just sort through his thoughts.

Of course, I was upset, and in that moment, I realized how reactionary I can be.

I wanted to delete all his emails, and to go out and find a new person to date, or maybe even call up Vince and tell him to come over and have his way with me, but I didn't do any of those things.

I just took a breath and did something else.

And then I told a couple of friends I was having a rough go of it, and then I distracted myself with some funny television, and then I went to the gym.

And at some point, I realized that I was actually relieved to have the space to breathe.  To just have a day where I wasn't waiting for an email alert or for a chat window to pop up.  To not think about what I wanted to say in an email.  To just have a bit of time to myself.

Now, of course, there's a part of me that wants to turn this into a catastrophe.  To figure out how this is proof things will never work out and that I will always be single and alone and lonely.

But, oddly enough, there's more of me that's just calm.

Calm and accepting that if this relationship is going to be long term, we'll have to figure out how to breathe.  When to ask for space.  How to fight, and come out the other end.

For me, I've never trusted that someone could be frustrated or unhappy with me and still want to be with me, or still like, or love me.  But right now, there's just a sense of calmness that I've never had before.

If things don't work out, if this is all it takes for things to fall apart, then I suppose it really wasn't meant to be.  And while that will suck, I will be ok.  In the end.

But more than that, I have a weird feeling of things still being ok with us.  I can't explain it, and that's not to say I haven't had moments of fear and anxiety and worry and stress and panic and it doesn't mean I didn't spend most of Saturday night and half of Sunday morning wanting to throw up.

Maybe it also means that I realize I can't change anything and so I'm just letting it be.

Which, holy bleep, where did that maturity come from, eh?

I know I've grown over the last year or two, it's just that it feels really amazing to feel less crazy about things.

So, yeah.  Jay and I have had a rough last week or so, and are currently just having time with ourselves.

And it's been good for me to remember there is more to life than "us" and him and him and me and all the fear around the unknown future.

Jay has said these last couple of weeks, that it's "not all roses" and I guess that's true of all relationships. (Except perhaps the ones that Hollywood shows us, but then again, they usually have a bump or too as well, no?)

Of course, I'm writing this in a "good" moment, a calm moment, a moment where I'm just accepting of how things are and my lack of ability to control it.

Will keep distracting myself when the bad thoughts come, and will hope for... well, I don't know actually.  Good things, of course.

Peace, joy, love and happiness again.