Sad.
It isn't him. It isn't me. We're just too different. And he really feels alienated being in my city in America. A City. Any city. And America. He doesn't care for either.
I'm still spending the summer with him. And it will be a wonderful time. But I think it is now a moment, not a life. And that makes me awfully, awfully sad.
I knew it deep down. It was obvious he wasn't happy here and wasn't happy with what I could give. I have a full-time job. It is really cushy by American standards, but I have to work 4 days a week most weeks, and usually 5-7 hours a day. For the last couple of weeks, I had 6 days off work, then 4 on, than 4 off, then 3 on, and I haven't done anything else. I've quit my hobbies. I haven't seen a single friend in the last 2 months and haven't even really had any long phone conversations with anyone but he still feels neglected. But he doesn't have anything here except me. Nothing excites him. He misses home and little tempts him to explore and find hobbies or other people he might like. I think he feels like I did visiting Dotty in the rural village in April.
And I feel like I don't live up to his standards. I multi-task, which he hates. And I'm more independent than him. I'm craving time to myself to think. To me, I think having 30 good hours a week with a partner is a lot, but he thinks that isn't anywhere near enough. I feel like he wants all my time. To me, being with a partner is roots, so you both have a ballast that lets you grow taller and stronger in the world, but I think he feels like it should be more. But even aside from being in the world, I need time to think and feel just myself. I've been meaning to write this for 10 days now, but 4 in the morning when I can't sleep is the only time I have to myself. I have a letter from my dad that came a week ago that I haven't had time to open and read and think and feel about.
We'll see if I feel the same way when I'm in Europe; but I expect I will: this is a difficulty my parents are still trying to resolve with my mom constantly wanting time to herself and my dad wanting more from her. In fact, MaxEarnest and I are actually replaying several of the dynamics that I see with my parents, although, oddly, we seem to jump back and forth on who plays the part of my dad and who plays my mom in different dynamics.
We are each hardy and frail in different things. Yesterday I fell when I was biking and it freaked the hell out of me. I switched over to biking cleats about a month ago and he went through an intersection when a car was coming and I was stupidly following him without watching. By the time I saw the car, I couldn't get my foot out of the pedals. It is the first time I've fallen in years, and it wasn't a huge deal (although my wrist and knee still hurt), but I just wanted to go home. I didn't have any resilience left to enjoy our adventure. He really pushed me to not give up. He held me for a good 15 minute or so, but then wanted to keep biking, and I did what he wanted, but it was really hard for me. But a couple of nights ago, he got in a cold breeze for maybe 3 seconds, and his shoulder really hurt. I don't think either of us can quite predict what the other one will need because we're so different.
It isn't that we have different philosophies on life--we're even more different than that. We don't even look at life the same enough to have competing philosophies. It isn't enough to say that he loves Two and a Half Men and Californication and I love Six Feet Under and Downton Abbey. I was working on a grant proposal for at-risk teens and talking about what the program does. One of the steps involved kids sharing and the grant mentioned the importance of teens seeing that other people have experienced some of the same difficulties they had. It is sort of like "It Gets Better" except it is just teens from different schools sharing with each other in person, over time. This, to me, is one of the most valuable things my work does, and Maxearnest couldn't understand why this was important. We talked about it a lot, and it was like I said we all needed to breathe Jello-o or something. He couldn't relate at all to a sense of affirmation that other people had gone through these difficulties and you, (I) wasn't a freak after all.
I don't care that he doesn't have a job on most levels, although I'm the kind of person that wants to take difficulties now to avoid them later. But the fact that he doesn't work means he wants much, more more from me than if he had to work for 30 or 40 hours a week as well. The incongruity of our outside demands unbalances the relationship.
And, truth be told, we're lousy roommates. The ex and I were lousy lovers, but great roommates. We shared a 350 square foot apartment, for almost a year. Maxearnest and I have really different expectations and likes and dislikes. We operate at different speeds. We value different things.
I'm in my little bedroom right now, because he doesn't tolerate fans or air conditioners, (but he also is unhappy when it is too hot --he's usually more sensitive to that than I). And I miss him. I was lying on my side, with my cat in my arms and my back felt so alone, so empty. I crave his touch. I ache for him, because I feel this will end and I'll be back to sleeping with my cat, my blood turning to dust.
It seems I have to pick between a lover and a partner. Maxearnest is the only lover I've ever had that I could imagine being with for the rest of my life. Joyously and excitedly. And I love him. It makes me cry, racking sobs that he can't hear under the air conditioner, that this is probably it. Part of me wants to scream: "don't go! I love you! I'll give up the idea of having a partner to have you as an occasional lover." But we'd be talking about him visiting me a couple of times a year and the two of us going away whenever I could sneak off from work. But when I had to work, he'd come occasionally, maybe twice a year for two weeks at a time. We'll see. Maybe I will find a way to have a holiday-lover be enough. I'm sure we'd keep skyping. But, long-term, I think I crave a partner. Someone to support and be supported by. Someone to make a life with, rather than escape for a few magical moments. But magical moments are, well magical. What's the dream that can't be compromised? What's the illusion that must be let go?
I can see the sun is starting to rise. But I can't bring myself to post this because if I do, I have to e-mail him a copy, and there feels like a finality in that. I do love him. I can't bear a finality in that as well.
