Don't wanna

I'm not good at long distance, he says. I'm really into her, but I just can't do it. I need that presence, that physical companionship, it just isn't for me, this whole long distance thing. And she gets it, ya know. I mean, just two weeks into it, I told her, you know, it's not going to work if we're doing it like this. So thereygo, open relationship. It's good this way. It works. I'm really into her. But it is what it is.

I stand on the cusp of a long-distance relationship. And even the mere and fleeting thought of D uttering those words to someone, retelling our story like that, feels like a punch in the face. An elbow to the gut. A kick in the shins. I cringe at the bare idea of it. A part of me crumples up.

I nod, yes, it is what it is. She lives on the other side of the world, and they have to be apart for almost a year. We get another drink and move on to another topic. Another friend chimes in about that concert they're going to, the party later that night, whether the weather will hold out tomorrow. I smile, I nod. And amidst cocktails and laughter we sail through the night.

But in the back of my mind I know how I would feel if D ever said that to or about me.

And I wouldn't be nodding and smiling.