Kinda blue

I want to write about Owen but I'm extremely wary of putting myself out there. I don't need another slap down from the commenters. While the ad hominem attacks are always the vast minority of comments, they hurt disproportionately. I can't take it when I'm already hurting.

You all know what is going on. It's the same old thing. I don't hear from Owen. I worry. I vow not to contact him, but I do it anyway. He is surprised that I'm upset. I try to explain myself without blaming and somewhat succeed. We come to a truce. The current truce has me picking him up at the airport tonight. The good news is I get to see him before I head out of town on Thursday. The bad news is, I'm not sure I want to see him.

Of course, I want to see him but I don't want to fight. I don't want to have the same conversation we've already had too many times. I've already asked him for what I want (and need) and he has consistently tried and failed to give it to me. He is not making our relationship a priority. Maybe he doesn't like me enough. Maybe he's too overwhelmed with work. I don't know and it doesn't matter. When I actively take him by the hand and guide him where I need him to go, it works. But there comes a point where you've stated over and over what you need and how he can give it to you and when he STILL doesn't figure it out, you have to stop.

I don't want to talk any more. All I can say is, this isn't working for me and something has to change. If he can't change, then I will. I'll change to an Owen-free existence. Contemplating this is unbearably sad but I don't know what else to do. He needs to meet me halfway and if he can't do it, then I can't continue. I've flexed, I've stretched, I've been there for him. And where is he? Except for when we're physically in the same place, he's a phantom. I can't live for the weekends. The weekends are only enough if we have an ongoing connection.

Or, or, I could take a thousand steps back, live my life and let him come to me. I'm going to try that, but odds are I won't pull it off. It's just not my style.

No matter what, I'm done asking him for anything. I won't make "demands." I just can't. My pride will only let me go so far.

What a mess.

Grateful for: not too much pride.

Drop me a line.