Well, that’s it. It’s over.

I couldn’t stand the isolation any more, and I went out there to see him. I didn’t know if I was going to take my stuff and run or if we would be able to talk.

In the end, we did talk. And I took my stuff.

I was so nervous, and so glad to see him at the same time. Seeing him made me feel that my sanity slipped back into place.

I wanted to tell him that the isolation was the worst thing he could do to me, and if he had any intention of keeping his options open, not talking to me was going to hurt that.

He said he hadn’t been calling because of what I’d said earlier in the week, that it was too hard to talk to him. Yes, it was, but I didn’t know then that the alternative was so much worse.

He doesn’t know what to say to me.

So we spent a good hour getting everything said, because there’s not going to be another chance to say it.

He said that he flat-out does not want to get married, and that he was starting to feel that we were in a level of commitment that he had to, or at least be in a marriage equivalent. Which I already thought we were in.

He said that he loves me and doesn’t want to hurt me, but then he also says that he’s not “in love” with me. I don’t know how to differentiate between the two, I guess. I always thought of that “in love” feeling that you get at the beginning of a relationship as more of an infatuation, and that it’s normal for that to fade over time. What’s left is the love, and there’s no doubt that I feel that. I don’t really even doubt that he feels that too, but I do know that he’s afraid to face it.

He said two weeks isn’t enough time for him to get things sorted out in his head. I know it’s not, but it’s an eternity trapped in this hell. I didn’t ask him to make that decision right then and there, but I guess he did anyway. I just wanted him to keep talking to me, to reassure me that he still cares for me. Oddly, I do think he’ll do that now, even with the calling-off.

I didn’t want to lay a bunch of guilt on him, because I know nothing makes him bow up faster than that. But I also told him that I’ve never been anything but honest with him, and he needed to know how I honestly feel about this.

I think he dropped the pretense of still seeing each other, which was really only to make himself feel better about what he’s doing to me. Unfortunately, he dropped it to “not seeing each other.”

I don’t know if this is better or not. Not knowing was a torment, but this is hell. He’s pulled my entire life out from under me. Maybe I shouldn’t have wrapped my life so thoroughly around his, but I was giving that relationship everything I had in good faith. And he let me, in all sincerity.

I told him that I think he’s making a mistake. He thinks he might be too, but there’s no way to ever know that for sure. If he decides that it was a mistake, I don’t know that he will be strong enough to admit it to me. He says he will, but I have my doubts. And even if that happens, I’m not the person I once was.

When I asked for this nightmare to end, I didn’t mean to wake up dead.