I spent five months at her mom’s house in a town I often couldn’t stand just to be with her. I agreed to move there even, took a job because she wanted to be there, and then stayed another seven months despite her unexpectedly having left once I got it. I waited for her to come back, all because I believed in the relationship that much. Twelve months I sat in Santa Barbara, trying to make it work.
She finally came back in October after a trip two months longer than last year’s, once I’d finally given up in a panic and decided to leave the area. She asks me to spend an extra month in Santa Barbara, which I do, and then spends just over seven weeks in Salt Lake City before leaving — without my even knowing she was leaving for good until afterward. She says she doesn’t like it here.
She was gone for six full months in 2005 and barely three months after I see her again, she’s gone again and there’s every possibility I won’t see her for ten months this time, if even then, unless I am willing to go right back to Santa Barbara, even though I just barely f*cking left it in November, have no work there, can’t really afford to live there right now, can’t really stand to see the f*cking place right now, and even though I suspect there’s every chance she’ll leave again in March once I manage to arrive again.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh! What gives? Does she hate me? She certainly seems determined to keep leaving me behind in such a way that I can’t accompany her, while I try to follow somewhere behind. This is driving me f*cking crazy. F*CKING CRAZY. I can’t do this anymore. I am physically ill. I cannot function. I refuse. I am going to bed.