She doesn’t know how much I know. She’s making plans to move south with another man, and she’s already putting things in place. With me, she still makes it sound as though she hasn’t decided what she wants.
I believe she has. Accepting that has been hard, partly because I still love her with everything I’ve got. I’ve done what I can to show her that we could fix things between us. None of it changes the fact that she gets to choose whether she stays.
The part I’m ashamed to admit is that I’d still take the chance if she wanted it. If she said she wanted to stay and work on us, I’d stay too. Knowing she’s preparing to leave hasn’t switched off the part of me that wants her here.
I don’t think much of the other guy. I’m convinced it won’t last, although I know that’s my prediction, not something I can prove. It’s easier to be certain about their future than to sit with what’s happening to mine.
Her mother is also going through a difficult time medically. I’m close with her, and it hurts to think of the time they might miss together if this move happens. Part of me thinks leaving now is selfish. I’m also aware that I’m hurt by her leaving, and that feeling follows me into everything else.
I’ll help her mother however I can. That relationship matters to me on its own.
What I can’t figure out is why she’s hiding her intentions. Maybe she thinks she’s sparing me until everything is settled. Maybe she’s willing to let the news blindside me. I don’t know whether she means to hurt me, and I can’t fill that gap just because I’m already hurting.
I’m trying to build a life without her. Even so, I can picture being here if the move falls apart, helping her pick up the pieces when she comes back. I wish I could tell you I felt differently.
There is one part of the arrangement I’ve settled in my own mind. I’m keeping the cat.
