I ended things with Jack so we’re back to “just friends”. Had a good cry. Had a night out with two girl friends. And I’m [fairly] confident I made the right choice. He doesn’t want to take things more seriously with me because he may leave for the peace core in Colombia. And he still has feelings for his ex. They still talk. They still tell each other about their mutual feelings. He admits that they’re not likely to ever rekindle things. But I can’t do that to myself. I can’t give myself fully to someone who can’t do the same for me. And I can’t give only half. Not with him. Ugh so dramatic. Anyway, we are still friends of course.
I can’t help but wonder if ending what we do have makes more sense than not denying myself the pleasure that is on the table. I love going over to his place and hanging out with him and his roommates. I love sleeping with him – even we just sleep. Or is it desperate and unhealthy to settle and take whatever I can get. I know that I’ll wonder about her constantly. Whether they’ve texted that day, as I lay in his bed. Whether he turns to her when he’s had a bad day. When he last told her what she means to him. What I could possibly mean to him if she’s still in the picture. (I know the photo is petty)
But he’ll be here at least until August. That’s six more months that I could have him if I wanted. Just not all of him.