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Sunday, Dec. 03, 2006 @ 12:00 p.m.

French Fitch has started packing. His move has been a long time coming, and I thought that I had prepared myself for this... but I was wrong. It's one thing to think about things, but it's another thing to actually go through it. I guess that's where the saying "Easier said than done" comes from. I couldn't help but shed some tears as I saw him clearing out his closet. I think having someone you know move away - even if just a room mate - is hard enough, but this is a thousand times worse.

I was just getting into a little Christmas mood and getting all the decorations up around the loft earlier during the day. There would usually be some lights and garlands that go on a few pieces of furniture, but those remained bare this time because they were his... and they will be moved to his house. I thought about all the good times that we shared in this place, but the juxtaposition of Christmas decorations and moving boxes in the same living space was just too painful. He keeps telling me that he's not that far away... but the simple truth is that he is away, and that's enough to completely crap all over my 'holiday cheer'.

As I was putting up the decorations, he told me that they would be better off in his house, and asked me if I would place them there instead so that we can spend the holidays there together. I said that they were staying right here. He's taken away so many things from me, and I've given him everything that I could... simply because I love him more than anything in this world. But he can't have it all. He can't just pick and choose the parts that he likes about our relationship and throw the rest away when it's not convenient for him. I'm not a buffet table. He cannot have me over at his place whenever he misses me and send me away whenever he feels that he 'needs to be alone'. I am not a dog. He decided that he wanted to live in separate places, and that's exactly what he's going to get. And me living in my own place means that I get to put up my Christmas decorations in my place. I've always used the words we/us/our throughout our relationship thus far, but now that you've bought your house, I now have to use the words me/my/mine. If you want to spend the holiday with me like we've done so in the past 3 years, you come over here. Simply because I did not decide that I wanted to live apart, you did. I think that's fair.

But he just doesn't understand it. He still blames me for not being happy that he's finally attained his dream of owning a house. He argues that when I faced the possibility of moving away because of medical school last year, he was completely supportive of me even if it meant he could lose me. And that, he really did. He helped me through the entire application process, so incredibly supportive of my ambition the whole way. Things did not work out, and I am still here today, but that's not the point. The point is, he argues, when he was so supportive of me despite the risk of losing me back then, why I can't do the same for him this time?

The answer? Simple, but not because I'm 'selfish', as I have been accused of being. Medical school is not like buying a house. They decide if they want to take you; you don't get to go anywhere you want. And if they take you, because it pretty much determines your entire future ahead, you just have to go, even if it means, tragically, breaking up the best relationship that you've ever had. But that's not to say that it would have been easy for me. In fact, I am so deeply in love with him that I would seriously consider giving my ambition up for him, foolish as it may seem. But I digress. Buying a house is different. Yes, it's not easy to find a house within your budget and in the location that you want. But there's plenty more houses than medical schools. He had a choice of buying a house that at least had enough room for the both of us... but he chose to buy a smaller place instead. One that had no room for the both of us. He chose that house when plenty of other options would have been available if he'd just been patient and explored them. If I had been accepted to only one medical school last year that was outside California, I wouldn't have had the choice. I would have had to go, because as harsh as it sounds, medical school represents the offer of a much more definite and permanent future than a house does. You can buy a house. You cannot buy a place in any medical school of your choice.

He made a choice that excludes me. I don't see how anyone could possibly not understand why I feel devastated.

In just about a week, the loft is going to look very different. Not only is it going to look empty, it's also going to feel so cold, so vacant... and so sad. The holiday decorations may be up, but I don't think I'll be having much of one this year.

Love hurts.

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