You know what? I could kind of strangle Rob right now. I'm a mixed bag of emotions.
In the midst of a casual conversation yesterday Rob suggested that I move in with him. That's right, me, my daughter and my dog (I presume) pack up and move into his house. Can you fuckin believe it?
I don't know whether to laugh, cry or hit him over the head with a frying pan.
It mostly makes me sad. Sad that he got the idea about 6 months too late. Sad that he finally feels that way and I don't. Sad that he is putting himself in such a precarious position knowing that I am in a relationship with another man. Is this a last ditch attempt at winning me back? Is he that out of touch with my reality that he thinks I would jump at his offer?
It was only 5 months ago he said he didn't want to come home to a teenager lying on the couch and crumbs on the kitchen counter. Is it because he soon realized his teenage son would be coming to live with him and so he might as well put up with my kid if he has to put up with his own? That seems a little too obvious. Though I must admit he doesn't have a mean or deceptive bone in his body.
I am touched and (only slightly) confused. A minute part of me wants to live out the dream, if only for a few moments--to feel what it would be like to take that all in, to let the dream unfold, to feel that loved by someone and that hopeful for a future with him. Not to mention how utterly convenient it would be for my finances.
But life over the last few months has led me to believe that I need and deserve a bigger life than this. I need to achieve more which means I must explore beyond the boundaries of this little town and the little man with the big, big love. It's not time for me to settle down with him, not now, and maybe never. I feel bad for him.
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