I know

it's just a stupid teenage novel.  Still, I can't help but relate to her in those months after he is rescued.  I know what it feels like to see the one you love look back at you like he doesn't know who you are anymore.  Or, alternatively, look back at you like he sees you for the first time, but despises what he sees.  I know how the guilt can eat away at you.  That you know it's your fault he's so far gone, that you pushed him away, but can still be angry with him for going away.  Knowing you should be able to try, should be able to do something to bring him back.  But being completely clueless about how to do it.  Even your love make him angry and pushes him farther away. 

I know what it feels like to realize you took everything for granted.  To be confused and refuse to acknowledge your emotions until it is too late. To wish, beyond reason, beyond hope, that there was something you could do to bring that old person back.  Maybe not even the old person, but maybe just some person who can stand to be in the same room with you would be a good start. 

I know all of these things very well now.  The one thing I don't know yet is how to move on. 

I don't understand

How can we both say we want the same thing, and yet completely disagree on how and what we need to do in order to get there?  I could do things differently, sure.  Did I go too quickly?  Maybe so.  It was silly of me to get so worked up over one stupid little night.  That was my fault.  I could back off.  Could make rules for myself regarding frequency of visitation, etc.

But how long can I go without him being in love with me?  I can't demand that from him, obviously.  Can't make him fake it.  But, I need his love.  In a strange way, his love is what would motivate me to be able to keep my distance, not to scare him off.  Sure, I could go to China.  I could go to far away, if I know on the other side of the world is a person who is love with me and wants me to come back, but slowly.  If he could send a letter every once in a while with those three words, I could starve myself of all other attention, could just wait until the next time he feels comfortable to be in my arms again.  But without those three words?  Why bother?  Why deprive myself?  Why walk on egg shells?  In the name of love, I could do anything.  But without love?  How much can I do in the name of potential love that may come back after some undetermined amount of time in the future?   

Time

is linear.  Relationships, being a product of time, are also linear.  It's like floating down a river, you can't stop, can't reverse, can only go forward.  Where you are and what's happening right now on the river are a result of what happened upstream.  The way you paddle and what you look out for, what you avoid and what you steer towards, all those things are also products of what happened to you and what you learned upstream.  You can't undo those things, can't unlearn them.  

We pulled out of the river.  Just crashed, burned, and pulled out.  Multiple times even.  Now we're so messed up from what happened on the river, we don't even know how to get back in.  At first I thought it was just him who was guilty of wanting to haul the boat way upstream and put in again at a place that he's comfortable with.  He wants to go back to the beginning.  Back to the part where everything was easy and there were no commitments to be made, no emotions that needed to be recognized.  The water was slow and shallow.  No rapids, no danger.  But I thought, we can't go back that far.  We're here right now, if we're going to get back in this thing, it has to be from this point.  We can't go back and do all that over again.  What's the point? It's already been done.  And even if we bring the boat all the way back to the beginning, it's still not the same as it was before.  The water that was there when we were there before is gone, it's moved on down stream.  You can't step in the same river twice (Thank you, brain, for having all Disney songs memorized and for producing that line at the right time).

Though, maybe I'm guilty too of wanting to haul the boat upstream a bit.  I want to put it in at the place where we were both happy and committed to each other.  That place where the water was quick and strong and cool, but the rapids were small, and we were paddling in tune.  I want to ignore all the bad things that happened after that, want to ignore that big crash and all the pain that happened afterwards.  Want to pretend bad things didn't happen and won't happen again.  But like I said, you can't unlearn the things you learn on the river.  He can't unlearn the distrust, and I suppose I can't blame him for that.  So, yes, I'm guilty too.  I just want to put the boat back in at a different spot.  To stick with the analogy though, it doesn't really make sense to put your boat back in the middle of a class 5 rapid, which is where we pulled out, so I guess we're both right in thinking we have to start again from a different spot.  But if we can't agree on a spot?  Do we just walk away? 

China

The best I could find on YouTube was a cover, but you should listen to the real song.  

Oh maybe somewhere down the line...we'll get back the same time from China.  China, China, far away.  Baby said looks like you're on your way to China. China, China, far away.  Baby said, how long you gonna stay in China?