February 16, 2002
Right Decision
I didn't expect it to feel like this. I didn't think two people could still be in love and make this decision.
It helps that it was two that made it, and not one.
At a quarter after one last night I am in my room, crying, wishing I could somehow see through the fog of my sadness. Crazed, I dial Ryan's cell phone number. No one answers. I leave a message for him to call me in the morning and fall into troubled dreams.
He woke me up at ten o'clock. And we talked. About everything. We can't save our relationship, not now. But we can save our friendship. And the only way to do so is to be that: friends. I am tired of getting upset with him about things he has no control over, stupid relationship things that normally wouldn't bother me. I see things falling apart.
Surprisingly enough, he said he sees them, too.
The strange thing is, I don't love him any less than I did when he was here. That's never going to go away. And I know he still feels the same for me.
BUt I don't ever want to doubt him and be right. I don't want to cry when we fight our way apart. I don't want to end up disliking the person who has showed me so many sides of myself.
I don't want to never laugh at his jokes again.
It can only be salvaged this way. And we still don't know what will happen. And I'll still expect his phone calls and sometimes return them. Because that's what friends do.
I feel good. I love him. Always.
astera at 4:34 p.m.