Two Islands Are Not An Archipelago

"I was just tellin' your old man..."

"You got a nice-lookin man there babygirl, you betta hold on to that one!"

"I told him that you two could just bring something as a couple."

Sorry, Holly.

This boy is not my boyfriend.

It's funny to me that once upon a time, I was desperate for this. I wanted the relationship I had to be acknowledged, to be seen as a pair instead of two individuals. But time wounds all heels, and I've stopped wanting that. He decided that he didn't want that quite some time ago.

Don't get me wrong, there's still love there, but we aren't a couple. We just aren't.

Me and him are really good at being adults together. Our bills get paid on time, we agree on most of our household decisions, things stay reasonably clean.

But we're not good at emotions. He's withdrawn and has little to no sense of empathy; I'm needy and desperate. I want someone to know me inside and out, to read me over and over like a good book. He doesn't even want to walk into the library.

He's been more affectionate lately, truly. He gets me dinner and rubs my neck. Always a tactile person, he takes care of my physical needs, but I'm more than that. I'm stories and dreams and thoughts and memories and words, words, words.

I know that he's always been an island. And I guess I thought that together, we could be an archipelago. But and island is still an island. I thought that in time, he would open up to me and things would be good. But I can't keep tearing down the Berlin Wall by myself. He doesn't get the privilege of being my boyfriend until we can fulfill each other emotionally.

Every time someone refers to him as my significant other, I want to scream. No, he's not my boyfriend, I'm too alone for that to be true.