For the first time since last Thursday, I don’t feel filled with a consuming anxiety. My stomach stopped burning my chest sometime during the night. We kept talking last night. Things became clearer, more specific as to what we need. After a couple hours, we had a breakthrough, and we talked like we used to without the recent, on-going frustration in our voices. I stopped shaking from nervousness and felt comfortable to say whatever came to mind. Whew!
No, it’s not all hunky dory yet. It might not get there. In the midst of it all, he stopped and said, “What if I’m not ready for all this yet.”
“Then tell me,” I said.
We may decide to spend time apart, by living separately, or to take the infamous break. (I always hear David Schwimmer’s voice yelling, “We were on a break!” from the ‘Friends’ episode, when I use the term.) We both addressed a need to find our selves again. Honestly, I’ve daydreamed about doing that and tried to do that when he’s been out-of-town. I always end up reading a ton. I love to read, but I also know I don’t want to sit inside all the time with my nose in a book. Well, in the summer, I sat outside with my nose in a book while Little Guy played. It’s winter now.
If we did decide to take a break, the time apart would be for me. I would not be in any condition to date, I mean maybe, but I don’t feel ready or interested. He may feel differently. I would want to set parameters to the break. I can’t decide if that makes a break fair or defies the point of a break. I suppose it would be up to us to create our own meaning.
For now, we’re talking, and I understand better what he expects and needs, and I think it goes both ways. I hope so. It should. How could it not? While I don’t like feeling in limbo, I know we’re thinking more clearly now, and we won’t make any rash decisions. If nothing else, I have learned so much about what to do and not to do to make any relationship work. A relationship is like a garden; it needs constant care.