You do come across as remarkably even-keeled.
If you were to ask Peter or my landlords, I’m losing my shit (over trivial things, mind you), but regarding the shortening of a long-distance relationship, which is what all received “so nonchalant” remarks have been regarding:
Statistically, the odds are stacked against us. It’s been a year, and it’s been long-distance from the start. If things don’t work out, it’s certainly not going to be because of some sudden, devastating discovery that we don’t like / care for / respect each other.
And so I kind of see it like this: We’ve had a really cool year of sharing our lives and having our own worlds, and we’re going to see if we can have those lives and worlds in the same city. If we can’t, life doesn’t stop on a turning point. By the end of my days on planet earth, the making or breaking of a relationship is just one tiny chance out of infinite other possibilities, most of which will never be experienced.
He and I each are seasoned in relationships and in relocations enough that — I’ll shift back to the “I” here — I certainly know what to expect (stress, disappointment and adjustment aside): always, always proof that life goes on, that surprising new paths open up, and that the potential for cool new experiences is out there.
So I may as well give some thought as to what I’d like to do in the case that those odds come and bowl us over; may as well be real about how things go in real life on planet earth.
He’s volunteered unconditionally to come here and help me move my stuff into storage, whether it’s in preparation to move to NY, or in preparation to hit the road for awhile, which is cool. He’s a cool human being. Everything’ll be cool.
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