Returning to NY

Long distance relationships are hard.  Since you left for NY, we have made a plan to spend our weekends together.  You will come here every other weekend and I will fly to you the others.  It’s not ideal, of course, but it’s something.  I miss seeing you everyday.  

I just wish things were better. You continue to push away when times are hard. It makes me question if things are ever going to work out.  Maybe we just work differently.  When I’m having a bad day I reach out to you for comfort and companionship.  You do the opposite.  It makes me wonder if this is sustainable in the long run.  While I can want this more than anything in the world, if it’s never going to get to the point where we need it to be mutually satisfying, what’s the point?

I’m hoping this weekend in our new place together will help iron out these issues.  If we fight once, I won’t be able to take it.  I’m stretching myself, emotionally and financially to help keep this thing alive.  Part of me knows you need me in your life, I just wish you would make room for me.  

I still love you very much, but I’m starting to question why I put myself through all the pain, as the stuff I want from this relationship seems to be so far away.  Maybe out of reach.

I am excited to see you.  I hope you’re feeling better.  I hope you look at me again and find me attractive.  I hope you want to make me a priority.

So … what would you like to know?

I tend to write rather vague postings.  I’m in love.  I know that much.  It’s been a difficult ride, to say the least.  I’ve not been treated the way I want to be treated.  I have other options, but I want this one.  Why do I put myself through this?  Why do I keep going back? I’m having a hard time defending myself these days, much less you.

For those reading along, what would you like to know about this story?  I’m feeling pretty honest tonight.

A Weekend in NYC

I thought I was going to have to wait two weeks to see you.  You were off in another city, enjoying life, giving me daily updates on your happiness and progress.  I was truly happy for you, but I missed you.  Turns out you missed me, as well.  A couple days into your stay out there you sent me an email suggesting that last minute flights to NYC were not that expensive.  You were inviting me in the most adorable way possible.

I booked my flight within minutes and then turned my focus on what I would pack.  I would go shopping to buy a wardrobe for the weekend.  I wanted to look perfect for you. I wanted you to look at me when I got out of the taxi and say, “This is the man I love.”

I’ll be honest, I was nervous getting on the airplane.  With things up in the air as they are and our failed trip to NYC back in December, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  As I stood there waiting, you came bounding down the street from Starbucks, where you were busy emailing out headshots and looking for more permanent housing.  Your little 5th floor walk-up was not without charm.  It was nice to see the place where you had been calling home for a week and would continue for another — until we found another.  Yes, “we.”

We hiked up the 5 floors and dropped off my bag.  As I turned around, I looked at you with all the love in the world and we kissed again.  If we had not been starving and needing lunch, I would have stripped off your Starbucks mocha scented clothes on the spot.  Instead, we stuck to the plan and found a little place around the corner to grab some lunch.  You were happy.  So I was happy.

The day would be filled with reading of lines, catching up, talking about life, running errands.  When dinner time rolled around, the stress of me being there weighed heavily on your shoulders.  I asked a stupid question about a stupid building on our taxi ride down to the village for dinner.  As it was coming out of my mouth, I realized it wasn’t appropriate.  It set you off and ruined our night.  I wish I knew how to shut up sometimes.

The rest of the weekend would feature massive highs and lows.  Love and hate.  Planning and un-planning.  In the end, I would leave with a wonderful kiss in the middle of the street as my driver waited to escort me off to the airport again.  Less than 48 hours together, but a lifetime planned.  

I don’t know what happens next.  Planning a two-city life is difficult.  Being a third priority on your list right now is hard to deal with.  Sometimes I question if I even rank that high.  I just want you to grab  my hand again and kiss it.  Pull it to your lips and tell me you love me.  Remind me why I’m doing this.  Remind me why I love you. I’m going to need those little gestures if I’m going to survive this.

Is this the beginning?

I dropped you off at the airport this morning.  You’re heading off to NY for a couple of weeks, eager to spark your career.  Your eyes filled with dreams. Your life complete with possibilities and options.  I will miss you, but I can’t tell you that.  I must simply wish you good luck and kiss you goodbye.

I hope these next couple of weeks allow you to see life from a different perspective.  Having just spent the weekend with the kids (and your mom), things felt different this morning.  We were a couple again.  We smiled and laughed together.  We kissed secretly when people weren’t looking.  We held hands.  We lingered together.  

Last night, after the kids left, I offered to give you time and space to pack and prepare for NY.  You invited me to stay, suggested a cocktail and we began the process of packing.  I had a lot of fun just sitting with you, watching you tuck things into a suitcase.  Picking outfits that may influence the rest of your life.  Wishing I was being packed in there, next to your workout pants and tights.  I wish I was coming with you, but know that it’s better for me to be here.

Two weeks apart.  Two weeks to decide if you want to give this another try.  We’ve slipped back into the safety and comfort of each other’s company.  I want more than that.  I want a new beginning where the past is erased.  We’ve technically been broken up for the past month and a half.  Yet, we continue to talk each day.  We continue to see each other almost every day.  And recently we … we were best friends again. 

I don’t know what will happen, but I know this:  I want to be the first call you make when either good or bad news comes your way.  I now know what those wedding vows mean.  This is about the good and bad days.  It’s about sticking together.  It’s about holding something together rather than running away.

I know my feet are firmly planted on the ground.  I’m not going anywhere.  In case you’re wondering.

We kissed last night …

You invited me over. Not like the other nights where there was a clear plan and things that needed to be checked off the list.  The offer was simply to hang out, make a little dinner, maybe read some lines.  I was surprised and excited.  I was also nervous.

I came over and made you dinner.  Nothing elegant, but it suited us just fine.  I poured you a drink and we read sides for an upcoming audition.  I enjoy this part.  I know I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun for me to pretend from time to time that I could also be an actor.  You’re the one with the talents and looks, so the best I can hope to be is part of your acceptance speech.  And I guess a big part of me wants to be the one at the end when you say, “And I could not have done any of this without …”

After lines, after dinner, after another drink was poured, we sat on the couch.  I massaged your feet in an attempt to help relax you so you could get a good night of sleep.  This was the first real contact we’ve had in a month and it felt amazing.  At one point we made eye contact — the way we used to.  All I could think about was: I want to kiss her.  It turns out that you were thinking the same thing. 

And then it happened.  We kissed.  It was amazing.

Do you know what it feels like to kiss someone for the first time? That’s how I felt last night.  Can I kiss you again?