Part of my planning nature is always planning an exit.  A quick, painless getaway.  To that end, I’ve made zero commitment to BFD.  The pain, the love, the emotion I express here: absent in real life.  I have never told him how I feel.

N-e-v-e-r.

To be honest, I’ve never demonstrated it much either.

With BFD, I am careful and (in his mind) indecisive.  I rarely express strong opinions and I rarely make demands.  That’s not exactly how I am without him.  It’s just that for the most part things about which we interact are things about which we either agree or about which I don’t hold a strong opinion.  I could not care less what I eat.  Wherever I go, I have protein and salad or sashimi.  I can order and eat successfully anywhere, so I do not care where I am eating.  I don’t care (much) what we watch because I can watch what I want later.  I do care what we listen to and I tease him mercilessly about it.  I care what I wear, but I do not care what he wears.  He always asks if it’s okay if he wears whatever stupid thing he feels like throwing on, which, um, I don’t care what you wear.  I know I should care, I know I should say, I’d rather you wear this instead of that, but I do not care what you wear when we go to a café.

But BFD is not my problem . . . I am.  He wants me to tell him what to do on personal stuff.  He wants me to care for him, to nuture him, to help him with the little things in his life.  To make his life easier.  That’s the thing with relationships — he takes care of me, I take care of him.  I own certain things about his reality, as he does about mine.

For the past two days, I have thought about breaking up with him instead of being honest with him about how much I love him.  I am terrified he will reject me, but every single element of our relationship appears to indicate he is just waiting for me to take a stand and tell him what I want . . . to take a stand and tell him I love him.

He floats trial balloons all the time and I ignore them.  He tells me he wants to move and I say nothing.  He tells me he wants to travel hither and yon and I say nothing.  It’s time, finally, to be honest, to take a stand and tell him I love him.

If he rejects me at that point, at least I will know and I can figure out where to go from there.  Unilaterally implementing my quick, “painless” getaway is unfair to him and to me.

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