Dear Kay,
Looking back on my last letter to you, I suppose I can blame my behaviour on extreme fatigue. I don't think I even realised how tired I was, but it seems like I got to that all pervasive, fuck-everything, inconsolable state of sheer exhaustion. Bloody awful, and I can only really see it now that I've had a better week, with more sleep. But not before I made things complicated and fucked it all up, of course.
Thursday night, was getting to the totally bereft stage of exhaustion. Was emotionally spent, even if not necessarily physically. Was weepy, grumpy, massively moody. Was listening to sad, emotional music and lying in bed when Squidge called. I don't think I'd spoken to him in a while. He sounded busy but ok, and I couldn't be bothered trying to sound decent. I must have sounded down. Anyway, we hung up and I was sad because I'd so hoped he'd invite me around or invite himself around. I felt like he was pretty much the only thing that was going to cheer me up, and I wanted more than anything else just to feel his arms around me for a tiny little bit.
But it didn't happen, and I got back to being bereft, and weepy, and tired. After half an hour he messaged, 'do you want to stay here tonight?' and I cried. Because I really did, and he had known it. And I thought to myself, for the millionth time, 'God I love him.'
So I went over. And he did cheer me up, and I did start to feel better, and clothes came off and things led to other things and it was lovely. And after we were lying nose to nose and I had my hand on his cheek and I whispered 'I love you.'
He gave me a quick peck. Then nothing. Longest silence of my entire LIFE.
I rolled over, while trying to play it cool, trying not to make it a big thing, but my head was kind of spinning out of control. Realising that I'd pretty much ruined the only good thing going for me right now, trying to decide who'd get my savings after I topped myself, or if I'd tell the parents to spend it all on an awesome funeral...or give to the ex, who needs it? What to do...what to do...
Anyway. He thought I was falling asleep and went downstairs and I was finally able to cry, which I did. Possibly a bit too loudly, because he came right back upstairs, turned the light on and told me to look at him. He looked like he was about to cry, too. I said 'I'm fine.' (cry cry cry). 'I'm a dumbarse, but I'm fine.' Long long long silence. 'But you have to say something.'
He said he knew he had to say something but didn't know what it was. He said he was scared, because he doesn't know where he is right now. He's scared of committing his feelings to me (and I thought oh! at least there are feelings!) when he has no idea where he'll be in six months, or what he'll be doing. I don't really know what to do with that. I knew that he felt like that, and I even discussed it with Katie weeks before over lunch, when she made the very accurate comment that it felt like it could go either way, this relationship. But it was hard and awful to hear it from him, just because you never want the person you love to say anything other than it's a sure thing, and you'll never ever get hurt, and it will all be roses forever.
And I was wondering what to do. What to do with this information but also where it lead. I thought, is this when I should be walking away? But it didn't feel like it. Because there are feelings, even if he can't express them, and I knew it.
I told him I was scared too. He said, 'really?' and I said 'yeah, absolutely fucking terrified.' I told him I was scared he was going to decide that he wanted to figure it all out on my his own, and he said he hadn't been thinking that. I said I was in the same place, that I didn't know where I was going to be in six months either, that my entire future is totally up in the air and I can't stand the idea of being in one place for more than a year. He seemed surprised, I guess, and really quite impressed that I already knew what he was feeling. I told him I knew what I was getting into when I signed up. But that in all the situations I imagine for myself in the future, he's there. In the background. And I asked him if that scares him, and he said yes, but not totally. And I laughed, and said 'well that's a start'. But I felt like I was going down a bad path, so I stopped there. I said 'it's ok if you don't want that. Or if you don't know what you want.' He looked confused, and thoughtful, and I dropped it, scared that I was scaring him off.
He said he didn't want to pack it in over this, didn't want to destroy things only to discover in six months under clearer skies that it wasn't what he wanted. I didn't think it was a deal breaker, because there were feelings there. I said the same, and suddenly realised how tense I was. Relaxed a little. Felt like I was steering the conversation into a better place. He'd stopped crying, I'd stopped crying. He told me he thought I was amazing, and that I had been a revelation for him. I told him that was pretty much the best compliment I'd ever had.
And I said, 'Do you think you might...? Love me?' And he said, thoughtfully, 'yeah...I do.' And I told him we could just go with that, then. For now, that's good for me. He asked me when I got so old, and I told him I was 23 going on 40 and he knew it. That we both worry too much, both overthink things, both have to get out of our heads and just feel it, just be together, just shut up and do it.
And, after more nudity, we went to sleep. In the morning we hung out but I was still stewing on it all, working it through in my head. Went out with Mum for dinner and we discussed the events over pasta, working it all through again. Stewing over it more, replaying it, forgetting bits and remembering them.
Saturday morning, we went to the beach, and it was lovely. And it was great, and it was the best. And he said it had been the best morning he'd had in a long time, and I felt just the same.
And all that was last week. I'm worried about the impact of the whole thing, and that we won't know the impact until much later, when things fall apart. I'm worried that we've applied the plaque, and now we just have to wait for the rot to set in. I'm trying not to let it bother me when I'm with him, to soldier on, but I still think about it, always. It's still stewing back there. I can't work out the overall feeling that I have about it, and I'm worried that I resent him and that I'll sabotage the relationship out of spite.
Things have been different, since. There's a lot more unspoken stuff going on, under the seams. And I feel like it's all just infinitely more complicated now, the way these things get when you're with someone and you suddenly put feelings in the picture. Stupid feeliings.
And I'm pissed at myself, because I told myself I was going to take it slow and not fuck it all up, and then BAM. The L bomb.
Just fucking muzzle me.
And I really wish you were here. I miss you.
--K.
