On rough weeks and every type of cramp imaginable

Man, this week has been rough. Sorry for dropping off the face of the planet, but I really haven't been feeling my best, and there's been a million different things going on. I completed the visa application on Wednesday, sending off all of those papers and am now in the process of waiting and feeling absolutely awful about everything. Fun.


Among the less than fun things I've done this week, I've paid a visit to my gynecologist. Going to the gynecologist is the worst kind of shit there is. Maybe not the actual going, but sitting there in the waiting room on the cold pleather couch trying desperately to not look at the other people here (all of them blonde and staring listlessly into their phones) is super uncomfortable and I'd run if I could, but I needed to solve the mystery of the period that never came. I've had horrible cramps and everything but, so it was worrying to me. Waiting rooms feel so hopelessly lonely, and the wait feels never ending.

Body, stop being so horribly mean to me.

Apparently there was nothing wrong, and this was all stress related. I started to question it in my head for a second, and then tried to remember what was going on a few weeks ago to have caused this situation. Oh yeah, insomnia, a massive cold, quitting my job and scoring this new one. No fucking wonder my body decided to go haywire and take a vacation to get away from my brain. I would've loved to do the same. It came back on Thursday, so I guess order's kinda restored in the world, even though I find it really unfair that I had cramps both when I was supposed to get my period, and then again when I actually got my period, and two cramps for the price of one is a pretty lousy deal in my opinion.

The Philosopher and I also had a long talk/sob/wail about my leaving, which was a bit like opening Pandora's box on all the emotions we've kept repressed and pretended we didn't give a shit about while dancing around the issue of my looming year abroad. It was awful. He doesn't see a long-distance relationship working out, because he's convinced that it'll die out slowly, that at first we'll be communicating all the time, but that given time that will stop, and the thought of him will fade as I get accustomed to Tokyo life and Tokyo people. I can't say that won't happen, because I don't know for sure. I don't want it to happen, and the Philosopher said that he'd probably want to pursue it once we get to the point of my leaving, but that he thought that it would ultimately only lead to more pain and he didn't think he could handle it. I was bawling at that point so I didn't notice until a few minutes in that he was crying too, cursing at the world for being unfair.

Thanks Life, for giving me the most amazing person and then fucking it all up for me. You're a real pal.

"Sometimes I dream about a wizard coming around, waving his magic wand and fixing things for me. But this time, I don't know what the wizard would fix. Christ, you've wanted this since you were twelve, and I've known all along. I even told you to go for it a year ago. If you were to stay for me, we might be fine for a month or two, but then you'd start to resent me for it. I have no right to complain because I walked right into it with my eyes open, but it's so unfair." Myself, I feel like I've fucked up so many things. I've fucked up my trip to Japan, because I can no longer look forward to it earnestly as I'm leaving behind one of the best people that ever happened to me. I've fucked up this relationship too, because I'm leaving for something that I've dreamt of half my life. I worked so hard, and it just made everything harder. "Was it worth all that war just to win?" Patrick Wolf asks in one of his songs, and that's what I feel conflicted about right now. I feel like I'm stuck, and no matter what happens I'll just be miserable. Even just not doing anything is making me miserable.

We decided to not act like I was dying, and to just go on doing what we love doing together - having an everyday life, watching Twin Peaks while drinking tea and just goofing around. Pretty much just going back to pretending that the whole moving thing isn't going to happen. That being said, on my way over to my parents' house on Thursday, it struck me that I would regret letting this go just like that. I can't. I just can't. The Philosopher is the first person I've ever dated with whom I've been able to share feelings openly, and talk about things that bother me. When I was lying face down on his bed, sobbing into the pillows, he pleaded with me to let him in while trying to physically untangle me so that I would face him and be able to look at him. "You can't be sad alone forever. You won't make it." But opening up is hard. That's why I realized that I don't want this to end. No matter what hard work needs to go into it. A year away will be hard, but I can't imagine not trying. After all, I was in love with him for the better part of two years before things actually came together for us. It can be done. My parents, for one, did it more than thirty years ago. But how?