On the Bright Side: We Still Love Each Other

Okay. We've been done for over a week now, but he has finally moved to his new home. He's been staying here ever since we started getting along again. It has been good and it's been bad, but definitely not boring. We slept in the same bed at night, and for all intents and purposes have seemed very much like a couple again. . . except for the almost daily, "We're not getting back together. I don't want to be in a relationship with you." It hurts a lot when I think of that, but it would be far crueler to give me false hope.

After a lot of talking, tears on my part, stone-faced determination on his, and a little time and distraction to dull the pain, I started helping him pack last night. It was difficult. I cried in the shower, and he caught me. It upset him and he couldn't understand why I was still sad about him leaving. After all, I had a whole week to prepare myself. Yes, a week in which to forget how his eyes look when he first wakes up in the morning. A week to lose the stitch in my chest when he hugs me. Seven days to bury the flutter in my stomach when I see his number on my cell phone. A whole week to blank out the way my name sounds in his throat, how his hand feels on my hip, what his hair feels like in my fingers, how his neck smells at night, how he smiles when he sees me...

I could write for days about the nuances of my love for him, all the ways in which I celebrate his presence, but that only serves to make my eyes well with tears. I've been letting my health slide enough without adding a little more dehydration to the mix. I average about 4 hours of sleep at night, and my entire body aches at the thought of being without him. I finally started eating again, after quite a few days of living in a 0-calorie haze and even forgot to drink water one day. My skinniest jeans slide down without unbuttoning or unzipping. Yeah, it's time to eat.

Back to the bright side. . . he still loves me and doesn't hate me. He wants to spend time with me. He doesn't want to be exclusive with me (something I'm not used to), but he insists that he will call, and will come see me, ask me to do things with him. I can't wait to see him again and I am cautiously optimistic. I don't trust that he will do as he says. I worry that he will get caught up in his new freedoms. One and a half years is a long time to be in a relationship that has had more than its fair share of stresses. We spent the day together, packing and moving his stuff, shopping for his necessities. I met his roommates and he wants me to come back. I want to be there, snuggling at night, laughing during the day. I want to be at his side, but ours is a volatile situation. At any time, things can change... but for now, we still love each other.