I know, I haven’t been posting so much since I’ve gotten home. You might think that that is because I’ve been busy getting back into the whole swing of regular life, but, its also because I’m moving. Sort of. I’ve been living with my parents for almost five months now, which is how long I’ve been all broken up for. And now, since Robin is back home (our fourth room mate), and the boys are moving into Chris’ girlfriend’s place, its time to get my things back. Things like my bed. And my desk. And, you know, the stuff you accumulate after seven years of living on your own.

This is seriously the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Even five months later, even after a trip, even after seeing other people, even after nine million gazillion fights, this is still hard to do. Now, its not nearly as hard as it would have been in January. Of course not. But, its still surprisingly hard. I think he and I can both admit that these past few days have been incredibly draining and sad. And its hard to balance that with a genuine excitement to have my own space back. I’m going to have a desk. And a few book shelves. And my white table that’s perfect for using a lap top in bed. Oh, a bed!

I would never say that living with someone was a mistake. I learned an incredible amount about myself, about what I want in a relationship, and about what I want in my life. But I’ve also learned that no matter how I see things, how I think things just obviously are, there is no objective truth when it comes to a relationship or when it comes to breaking up. From his point of view, every word I utter is matched with his own views, and I am constantly amazed at how differently we can interpret the same events. I don’t mean to say that I think I’m right. Hell no. I’m the first to admit that I’m incredibly stubborn. And hard headed. And I’m a bit foolish and I jump to conclusions and I take things very personally, even when perhaps they are not meant to be. I can also be insecure. Wait, why am I volunteering all the reasons why I suck? I don’t know. Because people can become completely and totally irrational with people they love. I shudder to think of other people seeing the girl I become. But, this isn’t the way I am with all people. Or even the way I’ve been with all boyfriends. Perhaps I have giant buttons and J. just sees them better than other people. I mean, don’t the people who know you best know your weak spots?

I honestly do not know if he and I will remain friends. I hope so. There’s a lot of history there. But, there’s still a lot of resentment as well. And  a bit of anger. And now, we’re at the point where there’s nothing to do the old “holding us together.” There’s no apartment, there’s no more running into each other. It’ll have to be on purpose now. And I am really not sure that either of us want that right now.
I probably should have included, “does not know what she wants” in the above list of faults.

Wait, I do know what I want. I want to enjoy the summer with my friends. I want to finish my last course and convocate as soon as possible. I want to go up to the cottage, a whole lot. I want to work out regularly. I want to read all the books I’ve started and never got around to finishing. I want to play more poker, and maybe win a little bit, once in a while. Its simple, but it does it for me.