Back track to June 2014 – I have made my decision to move to London – knowing Trouble wouldn’t be joining me. I’ve told him my decision;, he said it “sucked”, he was “just so sad” – but to be fair he was supportive, he really is a great guy. He also said he can’t wait to do the London thing himself…but in three to four years.
Fast-forward to December 2014…Trouble announces he is thinking of moving to London next year….as in six to nine months after I move. To be honest, I’m not really taking this too seriously.
He’s home for the New Zealand summer – it is the best two weeks of my life. We’re practically joined at the hip; we party for new years, we go away with his friends, we spend Christmas day with my parents, my sister and her fiancé, we go on road trips and date day adventures. It’s bliss. His last 24 hours arrive painfully fast – I assume he will be spending them with the boys, with his family – not me – his departing, ex girlfriend. However, he spends his last night and morning with me. He cooks me dinner and we spend the evening lying on my bed, cuddling, listening to Coldplay, watching the sunset and talking about everything from our childhoods to how different my life is about to become. I had never been happier and we could not have been more perfect. In our last two weeks as a non-couple, he spoils me with love, affection, time and even gifts – I am one lucky girl! The goodbye is heart wrenching – him saying I’ll see you in nine months – me not really believing it. A lot can happen in nine months.
Thanks to the time difference spreadsheet he created for us (yes – a Brisbane to London excel spread sheet, colour coded to show good times and bad times to talk…) we keep in touch every single day for my first two months in London. He works away behind my back with my mum and my best friend to send me gifts on Valentines and flowers on my birthday – for someone who isn’t my boyfriend and has no confirmed plan that he is moving to London…he’s working pretty hard to keep me in his life.
Reality hits around the time I get a job. New working hours make the green areas on the time difference spread sheet fewer and further between. Contact naturally lessens, but most mornings I hear from him on my walk to work and his walk from work. We’re not even back together…but the cracks long distance naturally creates begin to appear. We get annoyed at each other, we bicker over lack of contact, we are both equally confused – we keep going, but at the end of March we decide enough is enough. I mean it was hard enough when it was Australia to New Zealand and we were actually together, but Australia to London and not actually being together….ridiculous really isn’t it? We discuss how we’re risking ruining things and hating each other before he even gets to London – if he gets to London in my eyes. Who knows what will happen when/if he gets here. We talk of the possibility that he may get here and we find we don’t like each other when we’re in the same place or that he might get here and want to sweep me off my feet and we both want to be together. We don’t know – we haven’t lived in the same country for two years. Whatever plays out down the track – it’s unpredictable – and being in daily contact, in different time zones, while we’re not an official couple is ruining any chance of anything becoming of us…even if it only end sup being a friendship. I don’t want just a friendship – but I don’t actually know do I? I’m not a fortune-teller after all!
We keep in touch over the next wee while, but not much – it’s definitely, a lot different. We’re not missing each other as much as I thought we would be – or vocalising it anyway. He becomes harder to get hold of and vry rarely does he make first contact. When we do talk however, things are as they always are – we get along like a house on fire and always end up laughing and really enjoying the catch up.
It’s now May, I wake up to a text telling me that he has booked his flights. I thought I would be beside myself with excitement. I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, part of me is happy to hear that he is actually coming, but the other half of me is just not as happy as I thought I would be. I can’t describe how I’m feeling. Quite simply, I feel nonchalant, with a pinch of annoyance and anxiety. Lack of contact and lack of physically seeing each other will do that to things I guess.
A month later he tells me he is putting my address and mobile number on his Visa application. Odd, he has friends here, one of them being one of his best friends – why put down your ex? The contact between us starts to increase slightly, but still only at one particular time of the day – I can’t get hold of him in weekends, I can’t get hold of him at night – he calls and messages me on the old schedule; his walk out of work, on my walk in to work. I have my suspicions about this, I’m sure there is someone on the scene. But to be fair, it’s not really my place to say anything or question anything is it.
So – any idea what is going on?! I don’t! I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling, what he is thinking or feeling, or what on earth is on our London horizon. My mind is drowning and I can’t do anything but over think everything – absolutely everything.
The only thing I know for sure is that it’s bloody tiring trying to stay afloat in these muddy waters.
distanced hearts club ♥