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Things are not going my way these last couple days. On Saturday, my Dad finally forced me to give him a move-out date. He will be here on the 26th or 27th, and I will be leaving for good on the 29th. As soon as I hung up the phone I started crying. I could hardly hold it in while I was on the phone. Unfortunately, HE was in my apartment when my Dad called. I tried to hide the fact that I was crying, by busying myself with dishes and anything else loud and out of his immediate line of vision, but he had heard the gist of the phone call, and wanted to know what date I had picked. He refused to let me cry alone and made me lay down on the bed with him.

I feel miserable. Now the days are really ticking down. Now I know exactly how much (or how little) time we have left. Fifteen days until my Dad gets here--which will effectively end my time with HIM. Two weeks. That is all I have left.

We have spent the last few days watching the Olympics. I have always enjoyed watching them, and this is the first time I can remember really having the time to sit down and watch them uninterrupted. I have also been sleeping late. Today, he went into work. His boss is back from her father's funeral, and was ready to come back to work. He left at 10:30. I decided to drag myself out of bed shortly after. As soon as I checked my email, I wished I had stayed in bed.

My thesis adviser emailed my thesis back to me, asking me to do more revisions before Wednesday evening. I was afraid that might happen. I was hoping I was done, but considering the fact that my adviser is an expert on my topic, I am not surprised. Now I have to spend all day today, tomorrow, and Wednesday working on something that I can barely stand to look at anymore. That ends my leisurely Olympic-watching schedule, and more importantly, it means three less days that I can spend with him.

No news on the job-front. Right now, my plans are to go back home with my parents, at least for a week or two. It is really the last thing that I want to do. When I talked to my Dad, he said, "It is your life now. I am just here to help you do whatever you choose today." Basically, he was talking about the fact that it was completely up to me if I wanted to stay at home for awhile, or move somewhere random and try to find a job. The freedom sounds nice in theory, but I actually have less choices than it seems like I have. My mind is completely clouded with HIM. I want so badly to go wherever he goes. I want to enjoy these next two weeks, but a big part of me dreads the passage of each day. A part of me almost wants to get the pain of separation over with. I feel like I am pulling a giant band aid off as slowly as possible, when it might be easier to just give it one good rip.

Basically, for these next two weeks I am just stuck in limbo. I can't do anything to stop time from passing, but I also can't fully enjoy the time we have left knowing that the end is so near. I think one of the biggest looming fears is finding out in the months after we leave each other behind that he has moved on to someone new. Why is that always one of the hardest parts about a separation? I guess I shouldn't worry about something that hasn't happened yet. My emotions are just all out of whack. I am angry, I am sad, I am deflated, I am disappointed, I am frantic, I am depressed... I am just in pieces. I feel broken.

And now I have to go work on something that I really couldn't care less about. I have to tackle these thesis revisions, when all I want to do is cry, and sleep, and spend time with him when he gets out of work. I need to find a way to concentrate on this damn paper for the next few days. After that, I will have to worry about starting to pack, since my Dad expects me to have most of it done when he gets here. I don't feel like I can function. I need to learn how to be stronger.