Through the chaos of surgery, it was Joe's birthday. We had promised each other that no matter where we were, birthdays were the one occasion that we'd exchange some sort of greeting.
I emailed...then called. He wasn't expecting the call. I caught him off-guard. It had been nearly 6 months since we had last spoken when I told him that I needed time to figure things out and that I couldn't go through with the fight. It had been six months since I had heard his voice.
We talked. We caught up. I learned that he had just started dating someone in Australia and it was long distance for now. He was excited to hear from me. He did what he always does when I throw him off course - he drank. We talked, he drank, and then he called me back. He missed me and was so happy to hear from me, but he didn't know what to do with that. I told him about Walter. He listened. Joe was kind - listened to everything, was nice about Walter (though I knew he secretly was happy that things didn't work out because he knew I deserved better). He told me he loved me.
For the few months that followed, the drama with Joe and I continued. We skyped occasionally and found ourselves talking about the past and reminiscing a lot. It made us happy. We told each other how much we missed everything and how crazy it was for the two of us to still be in love, despite 4.5 years of long distance and the odds being against us.
But, it had to stop. It wasn't fair to his girlfriend. She was sweet, I'm sure, and she didn't deserve this. It wasn't fair. And so I told him. Although it killed me to cut him out for awhile, it was the right thing to do. He knew it. I knew it.
I had conveniently planned a trip away while Joe was home for the holidays. His sister was getting married and his girlfriend was coming with him. I didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't want to be anywhere near that. So, I left town. I missed him. I hadn't seen him in a year and it wasn't likely that he'd be back again anytime soon.
We met up for half an hour on New Year's Eve. It was like old times. I was waiting at the counter of a store when he arrived. I felt bad that I was in the middle of getting something fixed when he arrived and apologized. "No worries, I recognized you by your very nice bum," he said, not skipping a beat. It was like old times.
We caught up. He snuck in a few digs at me and I'm sure it made him feel better. "I'm looking forward to a 'normal' relationship," he said. "She doesn't want me to change," he added, referring to the fact that we'd been long distance for four years and that I had asked him to quit smoking and preferred not to have meat in the house. 'Fine,' I thought, 'you can have that'. You are doing what you need to do to move on. History has repeated itself yet again - be a jerk now to make yourself feel better. It won't help. He kissed me goodbye and went back to Singapore to pack his things up and move to Australia.
I spent the rest of the day balling. We barely spoke after that. One or two emails exchanged - none of which he replied to with any care. I couldn't blame him. He had moved in with his girlfriend, who by all accounts, was exactly like him. While they were long distance, she had a rule that they had to Skype for at least an hour a day. Who knew what kind of rules she had for when they were together. Maybe he needed that structure, who knows.
And, a few months of nothing later, he emailed me for my birthday. I was surprised but glad he remembered. I waited to reply and eventually texted. Our quippy text banter brought a smile to my face. I missed him...I needed to move on.
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