I cancelled on our first date because I had too much homework that weekend. But our first date was at a Thai restaurant - dinner lasted 2 hours with how well we hit it off. Followed by ice cream... and then Netflix at my place. We spent about 6 hours together that night. I had to kick him out because I'd completely forgotten my cousin was on her way to visit me. He came to my recital and met half of my extended family - just over a month after we started dating. He took me to my first [only] Cubs game. He came to my graduation. We talked about how I'd graduate to an unpredictable future - that I could end up anywhere in just a few months, whereas he'd still be there for grad school for the next 2 years. We talked about how neither of us wanted to do long distance. And we stayed on the surface because of it. We never discussed much of our pasts or the future and spent most of our time concerned with the "here and now" - the day-to-day, "how was work/school?" Normally I hate the everyday chitchat. But somehow it worked with him. As much as I would've loved getting into the nitty-gritty, heavy stuff from our pasts, opened up on a deeper level, I knew it was in our best interests not to delve until or unless I found a job in the area, that there might be a future. And I sensed he wasn't as comfortable being open about it as I was. I don't consider myself perceptive, but for once I got the hint. The day I got hired was the day we stopped dating because it meant that I was moving three hours away. He told me over drinks, months later, that if he hadn't been tied there for grad school, he would've moved - "in a heartbeat." And I love and hate that he told me. My mom still asks whether I think we'd still be dating if I hadn't moved. I can't play what ifs because I know the answer, and it stings. My life is great. I have a great job, coworkers, and a boss I get along with. I'm happy exploring my new city by myself or with my roommate or the friends I made at the bar. I'm blessed; I'm happy. But he's the best relationship I've ever had. Every time I think about the fact that bringing him to my family Thanksgiving is just a fantasy, I cry. I don't have to be miserable to miss him, and my life doesn't have to suck for me to know it'd be better with him in it.
I cancelled on our first date because I had too much homework that weekend. But our first date was at a Thai restaurant - dinner lasted 2 hours with how well we hit it off. Followed by ice cream... and then Netflix at my place. We spent about 6 hours together that night. I had to kick him out because I'd completely forgotten my cousin was on her way to visit me. He came to my recital and met half of my extended family - just over a month after we started dating. He took me to my first [only] Cubs game. He came to my graduation. We talked about how I'd graduate to an unpredictable future - that I could end up anywhere in just a few months, whereas he'd still be there for grad school for the next 2 years. We talked about how neither of us wanted to do long distance. And we stayed on the surface because of it. We never discussed much of our pasts or the future and spent most of our time concerned with the "here and now" - the day-to-day, "how was work/school?" Normally I hate the everyday chitchat. But somehow it worked with him. As much as I would've loved getting into the nitty-gritty, heavy stuff from our pasts, opened up on a deeper level, I knew it was in our best interests not to delve until or unless I found a job in the area, that there might be a future. And I sensed he wasn't as comfortable being open about it as I was. I don't consider myself perceptive, but for once I got the hint. The day I got hired was the day we stopped dating because it meant that I was moving three hours away. He told me over drinks, months later, that if he hadn't been tied there for grad school, he would've moved - "in a heartbeat." And I love and hate that he told me. My mom still asks whether I think we'd still be dating if I hadn't moved. I can't play what ifs because I know the answer, and it stings. My life is great. I have a great job, coworkers, and a boss I get along with. I'm happy exploring my new city by myself or with my roommate or the friends I made at the bar. I'm blessed; I'm happy. But he's the best relationship I've ever had. Every time I think about the fact that bringing him to my family Thanksgiving is just a fantasy, I cry. I don't have to be miserable to miss him, and my life doesn't have to suck for me to know it'd be better with him in it.