Saturday night I stayed awake till about 6:30am, lying in bed — tossing, turning, and thinking. I think I really am having Andrew withdrawals. As the days and hours pass, I’m becoming less sad. But instead I’m getting more anxious. The only other word that can describe it right is uncomfortable. The breakup is making me so uncomfortable. It makes my stomach upset, kind of like butterflies — but more like moths that are trying to get out.
He is my soul mate. One day we will be together again for real. But not for another few years — not until we’re done with undergrad. Right now, though, we’re just not ready for each other. It’s just how I see and feel it. If something like that doesn’t happen than I am certain that I will pretty much be single for… ever.
I can’t help that I don’t want anyone else. I won’t ever want anyone else the way I want Andrew. I’m sure we’ll both date or whatever, but when it all comes down to what matters the most, it’ll be us together in the end. I don’t know why or how I know this or why/how it’s even going to be that way, but that’s just what’s going to happen.
In the meantime, I want to be good friends with him — best friends. The more I thought about it, I realized that while we were together, we acted like friends in some ways — we had fun doing stuff together and we both thought the other was pretty cool — but in other ways, we didn’t have the basics down. We’ve never really hung out in the car and talked for hours like I can do with everyone else. I don’t feel 100% comfortable singing and dancing in front of him. We’ve never just gone to the beach or just gone to Swingers or just walked around for the hell of it. And I want to start doing that — as friends. I want to be best friends for a while. And then when we’re ready, and he’s sober, and we’re mostly done figuring our lives out (goodness knows that will never actually end), then we’ll be together.
Trust me, I realize how crazy and obsessive I sound. And if it were anyone else spewing out these thoughts, I’d be like, “Suuuure…” and would strongly disagree with them and assure them that there are more people out there for them. But not me. He’s my wolf — my mate for life. My puppy.