Okay, so not gonna lie, I enjoy the carpeted floors and the indoor heating. I like answering the phone in my own house and raiding the cupboards for random snacks. And it's great to be able to call and text people without worrying about jacking up my already-astronomical phone bill.
But all that doesn't mean I wouldn't fly back tomorrow if I were given the chance.
He's emailed me once. My biggest fear? That he was only waiting until I left the country, to spare my feelings or some crap like that, and now he's going to quietly back out of my life. That he never intended to stay in touch with me; that - although he honestly will miss me, because, naive or not, I believe that he will - he'll realize that it could never have gone anywhere and a long-distance friendship isn't worth the time it takes.
But then there's my optimistic side, the part of me that remembers his face when he said goodbye to me on Christmas Eve; that wonders why he made such an effort to call me every day of my vacation, even waking up at 6:30 Saturday morning to talk to me one last time before I boarded my plane; that can't forget all the times he told me I was different from anyone he'd ever met, that I had been so good for him, that he didn't want me to leave.
So I'm naive. There are worse ways to live.
Life (and death)
3 days ago