I really want to write before everything is gone. Before I chicken out, or decide it doesn't mean anything. But I've been re-evaluating things. Despite what I said in the last entry, I really do love him. And it was nice having him around. I cried a bit after dropping him off at the airport.
We didn't sleep together. I made sure of that, made the decision not to about a week before his visit. I learned my lesson last time, when M and I didn't live near each other. Sex just complicates things. And while in a way I regret it, I still think I made the right decision. I would have been bawling like a baby when I dropped him off if I had slept with him.
It made me think. I want a relationship. I don't think it should be with him, but at the same time I can't really imagine anyone other than him. The idea of starting over is exhausting to think about. He puts up with my shit. He understands. And there are still things I'm too ashamed to share, even with him. Worrying about another person? Worrying about rejection all over again? I don't know how much I really want that.
But at the same time I think perhaps it would be good for me. I think I would be better at the next relationship, because of this one. I know where I went wrong. And I'm pretty sure I need to be alone for a while in order to get to a point that would allow me to make the changes necessary to have a good relationship with someone in the future.
I guess that's nothing new. Nothing has really changed. Except now I have more hope, in a way. I feel better about myself.
On another hand, I feel a bit worse about myself. But it was one of the best weekends of my life.