Growing pains.

I don't understand what it is about going home that I dread (besides my unkept rooom - I always spend just enough time in my room to mess it up more before leaving for somewhere).

Mark and I have had some interesting talks together lately. Open enough to the point that we've been discussing our fears of postponing the end of our relationship. I've never had such great heart-to-heart talks with anyone else in my life. It's wonderful to be able to talk everything out like that, at the same time, honesty can be brutal.

Whatever it is we talk about at night, I always dread it when it's time to go home. I walk away from the car feeling as if we just broke up and if I go to sleep in my bed, I will wake up and things will be changed between Mark and I. Sometimes I feel like every night's end brings us one step closer to being seperated from him.

Mark and I are so different. More so than we care to admit. We see things differently, our personalities are so different and we constantly want different things. In our difference, I tend to cause him alot of hurt, however unintentional, and it makes having a relationship more difficult. And yet, at this point, we have gotten so comfortable with each other and have been through so much together that we share a past, if anything. We have become good at communicating and compromising and letting love fill in the blanks between us.

I am still afraid, though. Afraid to lose him, afraid to hurt him. Afraid to be hurt. I am terrified of another break up. I can't see myself putting myself through that ever again. It brings back terrible memories of my past and of my parents' close call to a divorce. But above all, the thought of Mark without me is like a knife to my heart.

We've grown to need each other. Knowing the both of us, in our reluctance to act and make permanent decisions, it may be a while before we go our separate ways. But I still fear it, nonetheless.

Every night when I leave him, I feel it. We blow kisses to each other and catch them. Something silly I picked up from somewhere. I clench tightly to his, wishing I could put it in my pocket to save it for later when I won't get anymore.

I'm groping for some sort of reassurance that my worst fears will never come to pass but I know I can't expect it from anyone and I won't ask to be lied to.

I'm at this point in my life where everything I do will project far into the future. I'm not used to bearing the full responsiblity of making decisions. I don't know if I can trust myself to make the best decisions for me. I'd rather someone did that for me.

But that would ruin the fun of growing up, wouldn't it?

So much more lies ahead of me. There's a life beyond college that I can't see yet. More work, more debt, more pain, more choices, more joy. But for now, I'll just savor one day at a time and not let the fear of them running out keep me from enjoying every last minute of it.