So, I finally checked to see the last time I was in contact with LP, oh so long ago . . .

Six Days.

That’s it. Just six days.

Plan, wtf?!!!

No wonder I felt as though I needed a vacation from me.

It started when I read a missive from his oversharing ex about a date or something and just got really pissed off.

Now, there IS distance between us. He’s been gone on and off since I saw him last month, when it felt like we’d be back together. His locked down fb page appeared at this time, too, unlocked for once, showing up in all of my search results as the first thing I saw if I typed his very common first name into my browser which I do routinely from the i phone fb app.

So, I freaked out about this, too, and cut off all contact, and nearly wrote him a lengthy Dear LP email that would have killed it forever.

For absolutely no reason.

He is doing what he does — struggling to survive his difficult circumstances, coping with his high stress job, going to therapy. I know him well enough to know that he thinks we’re fine, closer than before the reconciliation of course, and that we will be together when he figures it all out.

I . . . am not where he thinks I am. But I rarely am. I told him months ago that I no longer wanted to be Penelope. I have not been tending the homefires, chastely. I have lived my life — which is what I will keep doing, with or without him.

But seriously . . . it has only been six days. I am ridiculous.