We all have one at some point in our lives. That nagging annoying little voice of doubt. The one that says, "you aren't worth it." "You aren't pretty enough." "He doesn't really want you, he got smart and moved on."
The BLT is going through a lot right now. Moving to a new place 45 minutes from his current house, his good friend dieing suddenly and the following memorial services / plans, his daughter, our relationship... just a lot to deal with emotionally. He's been a little distant this week, uncommunicative. He's not responding to texts with anything more than a short one line response. I asked him to call me... nothing yet today. I poured out my heart in a very long email and he didn't write back. He called me later that night and basically said; "I feel the same way you do, I hear what you're saying and I want all the same things. But I need patience from you so that I can get things moving on this end. That will take time."
I have to accept that this is not a fundamental problem with me. It's not that he doesn't love me anymore. He had a funeral today, he has friends over and I'm sure they are consoling each other in their time of grief. I wish I was there, I wish I had the ability to be the one he leaned on and talked to today. But I can't be there. For all I know he went and got piss faced drunk with all his buddies after the service and they are busy crying in their beer... I mean, to be honest, that's exactly what I would do.
So there is this part of me, the rational part, that understands his lack of communication this week is not about me, not about our relationship, not about his love for me.
Then the voice chimes in, "Oh ya... so why did he get so distant the day after he left here? I bet he didn't really like your kids or your family. I bet he decided you are SO not worth moving two states away to be with. He just doesn't want to be the bad guy and tell you that he hates your tiny, crappy duplex, and the rain, and hasta la vista baby."
It's tragically bad timing, that his friend died right before he came out to see me. That he has all this heavy emotional crap running amok in his life right now, and that all this shit happens right after we have these deep talks and I introduce him to my family. It's not me... it's not us... it's him processing his grief and the changes he's going through.
So why can't the rational part of my brain beat the shit out of that snarky little voice and shut it up?