And then there were two, part 2
Jun. 14th, 2004 06:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batskeetsI can already tell that I'm going to be terribly long-winded this evening, so I'll split up the post a bit. :)
The part of the weekend that made me think "massive upheaval" was the fact that this evening, I came back to an emptier house, because I am now minus one roommate.
We've been a zany trio up here for so long that it seems utterly bizarre to be down to two people all of a sudden. I keep expecting him to wander out of his room and tell me about a new idea he's had, or a nutty story he read, or make a pop culture reference that would fly over most other people's heads. Part of my brain thinks he's just visiting family or off doing graduate school interviews, and that he'll come rolling back in any day now.
One thought I had when I wrote my letter to him really summed up how much he's supported me since we met: "You have never tried to convince me that I am anything other than the best person I can be." There are very few people I could honestly say that about.
When most people tell you that they love you and that you're a worthwhile person, there's a caveat attached to it. You'd be great if you worked harder, or if you called more often, or if you did X, Y, and Z when you ABCed. Even if they don't say it, sometimes you still know that the extra clause is there. But, when someone is standing behind you, telling you that hey, you're a great person, and you're going to be fine, and that's *all* they say, it's a really big deal. When it comes without the conditionals and the if-onlys, it can become such a meaningful gift.
I don't think a lot of people have had the fortune of receiving as much from him as I have, so I'm grateful to have had it at all. I keep trying to put to words how immensely positive a contribution he's made to my life, but I don't think I'll ever succeed, and that makes me sad. I can only hope that someone else is fortunate enough to learn about it firsthand.
I can't say that I'm screaming and protesting this change, though, because part of me feels like it's time to be doing it. I think the three of us have gone about as far as we can in the situation that we've shared. But I'm still sad and thrown off by it, and there is part of me that doesn't comprehend why we can't keep traipsing along the path, with our arms linked together like we're in the Wizard of Oz.
Well, here I am getting sniffly again, so I should probably sign off and go to bed.
The part of the weekend that made me think "massive upheaval" was the fact that this evening, I came back to an emptier house, because I am now minus one roommate.
We've been a zany trio up here for so long that it seems utterly bizarre to be down to two people all of a sudden. I keep expecting him to wander out of his room and tell me about a new idea he's had, or a nutty story he read, or make a pop culture reference that would fly over most other people's heads. Part of my brain thinks he's just visiting family or off doing graduate school interviews, and that he'll come rolling back in any day now.
One thought I had when I wrote my letter to him really summed up how much he's supported me since we met: "You have never tried to convince me that I am anything other than the best person I can be." There are very few people I could honestly say that about.
When most people tell you that they love you and that you're a worthwhile person, there's a caveat attached to it. You'd be great if you worked harder, or if you called more often, or if you did X, Y, and Z when you ABCed. Even if they don't say it, sometimes you still know that the extra clause is there. But, when someone is standing behind you, telling you that hey, you're a great person, and you're going to be fine, and that's *all* they say, it's a really big deal. When it comes without the conditionals and the if-onlys, it can become such a meaningful gift.
I don't think a lot of people have had the fortune of receiving as much from him as I have, so I'm grateful to have had it at all. I keep trying to put to words how immensely positive a contribution he's made to my life, but I don't think I'll ever succeed, and that makes me sad. I can only hope that someone else is fortunate enough to learn about it firsthand.
I can't say that I'm screaming and protesting this change, though, because part of me feels like it's time to be doing it. I think the three of us have gone about as far as we can in the situation that we've shared. But I'm still sad and thrown off by it, and there is part of me that doesn't comprehend why we can't keep traipsing along the path, with our arms linked together like we're in the Wizard of Oz.
Well, here I am getting sniffly again, so I should probably sign off and go to bed.
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Date: 2004-06-14 07:34 am (UTC)no subject
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