I have been feeling restless again lately.


I am tired of disliking all the parts of my life while holding on to gratitude for having them. I miss living alone. I miss happy hours with friends. I miss roommates who make you glad you don’t live alone. I miss energy and excitement. I miss finding contentment in my work. I miss surprises. I miss sunshine.


The baby in my bath water, the one thing I did not want to throw out, was the guy I was seeing.  He’s one of those people who lights me up. I enjoy his company and his conversation. I am amused by his foibles. His sense of humor is so different from mine, but the jokes are so easy to enjoy.  He is attractive beyond his skin. Over the last few months I have steadily marched into more and more serious territory. I really like this guy! I have to move across the country? No problem, I wasn’t crazy about West Michigan anyway. He wants to have babies? Fine. I am in. His career will dictate mine? Whatevs. It isn’t that important.


He wants to see other people because it will be fun.


What? I swear I could hear the sound of the vinyl scratch as the needle was dragged off my beautiful Italian opera.


What part of that sounds fun? I’ve dated enough. I want you. Why else am I still here?


I have never had the audacity to dream big for myself.  I’ve never sighed over a corner office or built imaginary houses in my head.  I set goals and I achieve them; it isn’t about the end goal, it’s about the process.
But this was about the end goal. In a rare streak of patience, I was happy to build a foundation, one piece at a time, so that it would be strong enough to last.  It wasn’t just about where the bedroom furniture would stand.  I was giving it space and time so neither of us would feel rushed.


He wasn’t ending it, but I could see the problems the limbo would cause for me.  I can’t honestly date someone else if I am sneaking looks at my phone under the dinner table, still hoping for his calls.  I can’t sit at home wondering who he is going out with and what they are doing.


But I accept his decision.  If he thinks it will be fun to date other people, we aren’t exactly on the same track.  We SHOULD date other people. But I have to find a way to let him go, or I’m just going to spend my nights at the gym.


I wanted to tell him good luck and good bye.  The words wouldn’t come. I told him how seriously I had viewed things, and then I wished him good luck and asked him not to call so frequently.  Probably a given under the circumstances, but I needed to feel the break just a little.  I need to know the record will skip from now on, and it won’t carry me away in quite the same away.


I’ll still probably just spend my nights at the gym. But it did feel surprisingly empowering to voice my feelings and declare my boundaries.  I have rarely seen the value in being so open, but today the value presented itself in the calmness that came over me.  I did not see that coming. I will have to try it again.


At least one good thing came out of it.