No, I’m not breaking up with The Boyfriend we are blissfully in our honeymoon phase and I’m happy as a clam.
I mean breaking up with The Gay Boyfriend.
How can I explain this?
I am moving – finally – away from my hometown (again) to be closer to work so I can reduce my incredibly long commute. This means moving off the same block that The Gay Boyfriend lives on. It about 2 minutes from his apartment door to mine. We’ve lived like this for the last 3 years.
When I moved into my place I’d wanted to be in the same area and it just so happened my place was available. That was in May. By the time Christmas rolled around I had started to fall for him again (I’d never stopped believing that he and I were meant to be together). It wasn’t until the following February after I’d suggested we get back together that he finally came out to me.
You don’t stop loving someone overnight so I went through a period where I wrestled with my feelings and even completely melted down on him because I was angry. Angry because I felt like he’d taken something from me. My ability to have stability, a relationship, a future, a family, etc. I had wanted those things with him since we’d been in high school so letting that go was a challenge and much to my chagrin he’d already done so.
So I began to move on but not necessarily in the healthiest or most functional way. Moving on for me meant suppressing any thoughts of that idyllic life I’d imagined with him. As I started trying to date and failing miserably and repeatedly I began to truly believe it just wasn’t for me. I just wasn’t going to get to have that life.
While that was going on The Gay Boyfriend and I worked on reestablishing our friendship. That first week after he came out we spent every possible moment together. Just hanging out and talking. I was trying to get up to speed on his hidden life.
From there on out we’ve done everything together, much like a couple would hence the moniker: travelled, shopped, gone on “dates”. We know each other so well I can eat something and know whether he’d enjoy it or not. When we’re out together people treat us like a couple. I’ve been called his wife a few times. It’s amusing really all things considered.
He’s the only person I wouldn’t hesitate to donate an organ to or take a bullet for. He’s the person I’ve turned to when I’ve needed emotional support or financial support. He’s the one person who no matter how bad things are at the moment I know we will get past it and still be there for each other.
So moving, leaving that comfort, that safety, that resource is filling me with fear and anxiety and an overwhelming sense that this is the end of an era.
I know, we’re perhaps a little too dependent on each other and this change forces us to grow and move apart as we probably should but change is hard.
That all of this coincides with my burgeoning new relationship presents even more of an issue. Already my time with The Gay Boyfriend is reduced and now it will suffer an even greater restriction.