Reset, Rewind, Fast Forward

It is said that the act of sighing is the body's way of resetting its breathing pattern.
I feel as though I keep sighing in the hopes of resetting, of refreshing, my breathing, my life, the endless cycle of unknowns whirring through my brain.

I love my fiance, I do. I love him so much sometimes it almost hurts.  I followed him across the country, leaving friendships broken, stable employment, and my family.  I was off on an adventure- for love and independence and a family of my own.  I took an extended break from my education and put the rest of my dreams on hold for this boy-next-door, a cliched romance. I was falling apart in every sense of the phrase, so I packed all my pieces in a bag and got on a plane.

Those first few months were so dark, some of the darkest I've ever had to wade through. Those pieces were far too heavy and numerous for my arms to carry and he had no clue how to help me. I sat in our apartment, staring at the walls, sleeping, lying in bed, crying, going out only to take the dog for a walk.  It wasn't the life I had pictured for myself or for us at all.

Slowly, I started to come out of the depression.  I actively began looking for work and pushing myself to accept social invitations.  I tried to smile more and seem excited about his attempts to get me out of the apartment.  Eventually, we were renting a house with a friend, I was working temp jobs, paying bills, going to parties, being in love. Now, this! This was more like it!  The things I'd left behind, the sacrifices I'd made to be there didn't seem so big.  And yet, I still felt like something was gradually creeping in on that new found happiness. The more we looked to the future, the more we argued.  Adoption? Schooling for our hypothetical children? Careers? What to do next weekend? Never the same point of view.

Now here is where it gets tricky.  I recognize the need, the requirement, to compromise in any relationship.  Compromise is healthy.  However, when does compromise stop being reasonable? When is it okay to finally step back and say "I love you, but this is just too important to me"?  Do I really feel like I'm not just giving away things, but pieces of myself? Or am I just being selfish and choosing to feel like a martyr?

I took a trip to North Carolina at the end of August.  I spent 10 days at the beach with a group of highly motivated and dedicated people.  I had the days to myself to sit, listening to the ocean, and sigh deeply.  I came back from that trip knowing that while I love my fiance, sometimes that isn't enough.  Sometimes, you have to love yourself more.  Now, difficult decisions must be made.  Do I stay and try to make it work, letting time slip away? Or do I go back to my roots, put some of those relationships back together, recharge my batteries and start working on myself? It is an unfortunate fact that I don't feel I can do both at the same time.  If I'm going to really work on who I am, who I want to be, and what I need to do to get there, I can't do it here with him.  It has to be about "me" and not about "we."

As I sort through college applications this weekend, I will be telling him and myself, that I haven't made up my mind.

"No, dear, no decisions have been made. I'm just exploring my options"

The thing is, I don't know if that's true. Being here feels strange.  My body stays here, working through the necessary actions that must take place before anything else.  However, my mind is elsewhere, having already resigned itself to the facts and the difficult transition ahead. It is eagerly planning lunch dates with old friends, nights alone in my room doing homework, sitting with my mom drinking wine and catching up.

I wonder if this is really what is meant when people talk about detachment. About "out of body experiences."  My body and my love are here.  My thoughts are somewhere else entirely. And my soul? My soul is stuck between the two planes, grating against the walls.