Traveling can be incredibly lonely at times. Now is one of those times. I hate that every time I leave I don't have a clue what's going on, hell most of the time I'm home I don't have a clue what's going on between us.
I,
It's quite obvious what you're doing. I know and I don't acknowledge it. You are there when you want to be and disappear when you desire. I don't push you, I give you space. Once in a while it might be nice to get a "Hey did you make it in okay?" phone call. I really don't ask much of you, and your lack of thought or compassion is starting to wrap around my heart with barbed wire. I know you feel like shit about what you're doing but instead of changing you wallow in how horrible you feel about it. I saw how you looked when Mike gave me flowers. You back out of anything and everything that is worth something to you, but alas it is your life; you are free to make it as miserable as you like. I've done exactly what you're doing. I've been with someone like me (now) when I was someone like you. You're blowing it, and it's really a shame.
~C
Part of me wants to scream out at what he's doing, and part of me believes that anger and resentment for all of the little crap is building up bit by bit. It's been eight months. EIGHT months. The other part of me realizes that if I do bring it up I will hear the answers that I don't want to hear. I've learned that lesson. Simply put, if you crush me again it will destroy me. I know that, so let's follow you're plan and tug along like troopers until you move. Then we can blame it on the 20 minute drive and not have to deal with the aftermath.
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