then I'll cancel my ticket

It was worse, and I knew it was going to be worse.

New Year’s Boy slept over at my apartment a week ago, and I stayed at his the other night. He didn’t ask to stay after my birthday party—he said he couldn’t, and I wanted him to.

A week ago, our coworkers had birthday drinks at a bar a five minute walk from my apartment. He and another friend came over beforehand.

I think we both drank more than expected, but I think we would’ve ended up the same regardless. I remember vaguely talking about our circumstances. I forget what I said, but I remember him saying sometimes he feels like he missed his chance and that makes him sad. I said something else first, but circling back, I said it’s not that he’s missed his chance—it’s more complicated than that. I think other important things were said, but they didn’t stay with me.

There’s been times when I’m in bed ready to go to sleep and I miss him. When he’s here I think about how he’s in the bed I missed him from, but how many more times. Our relationship is tenuous and results are undependable.

I mentioned I hadn’t watched Coco (2017) at work. He was in the room. I asked if he wanted to watch it together and he said yes. I followed up. We watched it at his the day after my birthday.

It was so easy. It is so easy to be together. I knew the whole night that I was only buying time. He ordered pizza close to midnight. We slept in later than we have before. We had sex five times. I stayed at his until noon, far later than I should have. I only cried at the end, knowing I was buying time.

Last night was my birthday party. I barely saw him the whole night—more my fault than his. I spent too much money. I was present, but I feel like I missed out on most of it. Everyone was gone by 12:30.

As the last people walked out, I asked if he was staying and he said he couldn’t. I told him that I always stay and he always goes. It’s not entirely true, but it’s more true than untrue. We talked in my room. We sat on my bed, my legs tucked between his. I was drunk again, so I don’t remember everything. I do remember saying I think his mom would hate me and him being caught off guard. I told him I would never deny his search to know and understand himself, but if we were to get back together, I couldn’t go on pause like this again. I remember him nodding. He asked me if I felt I was ready for a long-term relationship and I said, “Yes, with you.” I remember him saying it’s his fault. I remember saying sometimes when he tells me I’m beautiful it feels like a death sentence, and I knew as I said it, I shouldn’t have. I also told him I love him, and without hesitation he said “I love you too.” We agreed to talk more tomorrow, and we talked more today. I always know we’re not getting back together, but I like to talk it over. All you can do is play your hand.

Anyway, we called today for three and half hours. I immediately apologized for saying the death sentence comment. Not because of the comment but because of where we always land, he’ll probably never tell me I’m beautiful again. That makes me sad.

We talked about other things (catcalls, living or not living with someone prior to marriage—he only maybe would, and I wouldn’t marry someone without), but we circled back (before again talking about other things). I explained that I made the comment about his mom because, while as always, I don’t really think we’re getting back together—

I said it would depend on us having the right conversation. He said let’s have it now. Yes and no. We had the conversation we needed to, but it wasn’t the right conversation.

—I would never want us to get back together with a greater sense that we would inevitably break up again. Not to say we can guarantee what will happen, but I know he cares about his mom’s opinion. He said he didn’t think that would be a reason we’d break up.

We talked more. I had criticized him (from his point of view, in my world, it was a matter of fact) the night before for never crying when I always cry. I told him I know he cries, and he explained he’s been criticized for that before. I told him I think it’s his training as an actor, he has control over his emotions. I told him I’ve never been good at controlling my emotions. I once had a job list it as my one critique in an evaluation.

He asked how I felt a year ago this time, what I imagined for our relationship. I told him a year ago this time, I still just wanted to kiss him. He laughed. I explained something I had mentioned when we broke up. How I don’t have exact expectations. Would I have wanted to eventually be more official and boyfriend and girlfriend, yes, but that if he had come to me and said “I still want to keep dating, but this is how I’m feeling.” I would have said “Okay, bet.” I asked if he knew that we dated for exactly six months to the day. I said, “I thought that was funny.”

I said that I hadn’t planned to start this conversation last night. I knew it was going to need to happen, but I didn’t want to do it prior to or at my birthday, and I was sorry for that. To him, not myself.

I told him again it wasn’t his fault. It’s just life. I do believe that. He said he cares about me a lot.

I had started by saying I felt our current state was untenable, and it came to a conversation where I explained it felt like there had been a decision about us, even if it essentially went unsaid. It, more so, was a question of, “How do we proceed?” He thinks we work through it, and I don’t know. “I like talking to you. / “I like talking to you too.” I don’t want to stop talking to him, and he said he doesn’t think we could—socially at least. I don’t want to stop talking to him, he’s my best friend, but I also don’t want to be friends. We could work through it, and maybe someday I won’t be attracted to him the same way and I won’t want him the same ways, but I don’t want that. There’s no solution. I said it’s something I’m going to figure out as we go.

He had talked about how and why he needs to go back to therapy. He talked about how he doesn’t want to head into a relationship, and then have each other hate each other in two years. That it does or doesn’t scare him. I don’t want us to hate each other in two years, but I think I feel that we either hopefully wouldn’t hate each other in two years, or (where the scales are falling) we probably don’t talk in two years.

At the end I told him “I do love you.” He said “I love you too.” We sat in silence (me crying) as we do. I asked if we were just going to stay on the phone like this. He said he had nothing else to do. I changed the topic to Fantasy Football.

Bye and bye. I cried and went to sleep. Awake again, and I’m still crying (into a towel I washed last night because I also ran out of tissues last night).

I know we weren’t actually dating this time, but it feels like we broke up again. I said to him, “We’ve been broken up for almost five months and I’m still crying.”

I hope we talk again soon, in our normal way, but I don’t know.

The Answer:

I called him after writing this. I said I just wanted to get it out of the way. I joked about my puffy eyes, and I meant it as a joke. I forget what we talked about for half an hour. I think mainly about him going to the movies tomorrow.