And he said he wanted better communication, she thought as he put on his noise-canceling headphones to play StarCraft again. So much connection had been lost between them in the last week, and while she was generally in a better mood (due to an increase in her meds, no doubt), she secretly began to devise a way to tell him she was leaving.
Even her father had started asking when she was going to get a ring, and he had always been hesitant to let boys near his only daughter. A few months ago, when she brought up the topic, her boyfriend eagerly asked questions about wedding details and gushed about how he couldn't wait. These days, she merely got grunts and stern warnings that he wouldn't marry her until he had a career. She wasn't sure she could wait that long. It wasn't a matter of status, but of permanence. That, and she needed to know he still cared.
She had been dabbling in tarot lately, turning to the cards for every little problem. They had been quite helpful, letting her mind interpret the images as new solutions to old issues. Of course, whenever she consulted them about her relationship, they always came back negative. "Don't hold your breath," they seemed to say.
He was planning on getting a tattoo that said "Always" -- it was the promise that had saved her life and brought them even closer together. He would get it in her handwriting, too. It was a sweet gesture, but for one who wasn't ready to marry her, she thought it might be too big of a commitment. And not just for him: She wasn't sure she wanted her writing to be permanently on his body.
She didn't know anymore whether she loved him or just the idea of him. It seemed she was always waiting for better, always waiting for these days to pass so she could really feel settled. She loved her home -- and the apartment was home now -- but she was ready for so much more. Or maybe it was just the meds. Hard to tell, these days.
Even her father had started asking when she was going to get a ring, and he had always been hesitant to let boys near his only daughter. A few months ago, when she brought up the topic, her boyfriend eagerly asked questions about wedding details and gushed about how he couldn't wait. These days, she merely got grunts and stern warnings that he wouldn't marry her until he had a career. She wasn't sure she could wait that long. It wasn't a matter of status, but of permanence. That, and she needed to know he still cared.
She had been dabbling in tarot lately, turning to the cards for every little problem. They had been quite helpful, letting her mind interpret the images as new solutions to old issues. Of course, whenever she consulted them about her relationship, they always came back negative. "Don't hold your breath," they seemed to say.
He was planning on getting a tattoo that said "Always" -- it was the promise that had saved her life and brought them even closer together. He would get it in her handwriting, too. It was a sweet gesture, but for one who wasn't ready to marry her, she thought it might be too big of a commitment. And not just for him: She wasn't sure she wanted her writing to be permanently on his body.
She didn't know anymore whether she loved him or just the idea of him. It seemed she was always waiting for better, always waiting for these days to pass so she could really feel settled. She loved her home -- and the apartment was home now -- but she was ready for so much more. Or maybe it was just the meds. Hard to tell, these days.
