My first takeaway from my trip was that I love Greg and I should tell him.

But is that the right thing to do?

I keep having this vision of him making ***** jokes in the kitchen while cooking and I blurt it out and he gets wide eyed & overwhelmed with the weight of me finally vocalizing what I think we’ve both known for a while.

Am I too much for him? Would I be a burden? Would I keep him from blossoming into the most free and interesting version of himself?

Am I not enough? Do I not want and care about enough of the things he does? Does it matter that I don’t have a strong conviction to compost and fight for the environment like him?

Is me saying, the thing we know and I am pretty sure both feel going to just mess up the whole beautiful dance we’ve been doing the past 2+ years?

Should I take my own advice in my old Greg poem of just seeing where it goes, letting it leave easy if it does instead of fighting for us?

Or is he consciously or subconsciously waiting for me to express my feelings because if he did it, if he were to match me, He would have a lot more on the line than me. Relocating to a new city, changing his plans, making new friends. And I am already here. Grounded with the inability to move for a few years.

Will he be willing to take the leap?
Is it possible that us together could be just as wonderful as I imagine?
Growing together and encouraging each others individual growth.

Relationships and commitments have always made me feel like I’m giving up something.
That I would go from all of these possibilities of me to this limited, reduced version with a more fixed future and outcome.
But with him, I feel like I am expanding.

I just watched this movie past lives.

It’s about how childhood sweethearts reconnect in their 20s virtually and then again in person in their 30s when she is married.

It’s the what if movie - what would have happened if she hadn’t left Korea, if things would have been different, would they have ended up together. But they didn’t and she’s married now to someone else and lives in the East Village.

It’s not a movie of lust or affair. She doesn’t do anything wrong. They don’t cross the line.

At the end, he’s getting in the taxi for what they know will be the last time they see each other. And he asks what they will be to each other in their next lives. She says, I don’t know, he agrees and then says “See you there.”

It’s gut wrenching and heart breaking and I feel like that could be me with you if we don’t do this. I don’t want you to be a what if.

17 months without seeing you -

1 phone call and every feeling I ever suppressed exploded into my body.

I thought the dam I had built was a precautionary one. A nice safety mechanism in case it ever monsoons.

I had no idea water had been building on the other side patiently waiting for one small crack to burst completely.

They say time moves differently for everyone.
I know mine slows down when I am counting down the days to see you.
I think I’ve found the easiest way to extend my life.
Have a date with you, always 30 days away.

All this time I thought I was alone.
Comparing you to everyone when you had moved on with your life.
Only to find out, you were also stuck.
We were unaware we were each others best.

We talked on the phone for 6 hours.

You said you always felt safe with me. I admitted I hadn’t found the level of openness or comfort I had with you with anyone else. You admitted the same.

We talked on the phone for 6 hours.

You said that you had been more comfortable and vulnerable with me than any other person besides your childhood best friend.

We talked on the phone for 6 hours.

I admitted I hadn’t been able to match our chemistry with anyone. You admitted the same and said you still often thought of me for inspiration.

We talked on the phone for 6 hours.

I thought I was the one that hadn’t moved on but you were standing still with me.

We talked on the phone for 6 hours.
I normally hate talking on the phone.

I know you don’t love me like you loved her.
And I know because I don’t love you like I loved him.
It’s the scorned that can see the pain in another.

I know you don’t love me like you loved her and don’t blame it on time.
You’ll say it was two years but you said you loved her after 3 dates.
We’ve been together for 3 months.

But it’s not about the words.
And I actually don’t want you to say them because then I’d feel like I’d need to say them back and I’d feel guilty that I meant them less this time.
If you said them tomorrow it wouldn’t change my opinion.
It’s not the lip service but a knowing.
A knowing of what it feels like when you are loved like that.