The Dulling Effect

Anybody that has been paying attention knows that Alex and I are on rocky ground. You'd also know that I've done basically nothing about it but run to the ocean, text someone cute, and whine about it on the internet.

Well, I'd like to think it's because of something I've dubbed "the dulling effect". Which, to be fair, I only named for the title of this particular blog post, but the name stands.

When I'm out and about in the world(from my beach trip to something as simple as doing laundry last night), I see with great clarity what I must do to move on and grow as a person. Like the world is laid out before me, I survey the topography and find the best route out of the wilderness. It's simple. Clean. Easy. Done in twelve steps or less.

And then, I go home.

There's an undeniable allure to having a cuddle buddy. Someone to curl up on the couch with, to sleep with, to sometimes not sleep with, to be able to reach out and touch; These are all things that I have grown accustomed to. And maybe we can't have an emotionally open conversation, but general conversations, the division of chores? We've got that down pat. It's nice. It's homey.

This, my friends, is the dulling effect.

It's when the sharp image of separation is dulled by the enjoyment of physical closeness and conversation. For example: "I should buy my own bed, but it's so fun to touch his butt." And though the good Lord did bless Alex in the booty department, should I sacrifice my own independence for it?

Of course, that then begs the question of "Is physically separating more healthy for me than staying put?" Though he's emotionally far, there are occasions where being physically near is just good enough. Not preferable, mind you, but good enough. When anxiety strikes, I can be held. If we separate, will that still ring true, or will I just have less anxiety to begin with?

All these questions occur to me, but only when I'm at home, or more accurately, in his proximity. Outside of that area of fallout, it's crystal clear. I've become the tragic heroine of my own story, being so convinced to leave a man behind until he comes prancing in and making me swoon(well, not swoon, but). The shame of it all.

(And of course there's the layer of "If we're more separate I can actually consider pursuing other gentlemen", but maybe let's leave that out of the equation for a second.)

What's a girl to do?

Right now, nothing. I'm just going to sit on this, consider my options and finances. I know that neither of us can afford to move(and really, I don't want to).  In a perfect world, the affections I do still have for him wouldn't get in the way of my everything else, but in a perfect world I'd also be hot and rich.

Ah, well. At least I can deliberate with an enjoyable booty around.