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Well, it’s official. Charlie says he won’t be able to get the time off work for me to go over to California next week after my contact at the big agency ends.

Professional and personal life face-down on the floor, thank you very much.

I know it’s work; I know that he probably tried. But the truth is I feel angry. I’m not sure if it’s at him or at the general situation, but I do. Maybe it’s wrong or unfair. But it’s just…I don’t know. I wanted to be with him again and I was willing to fight hard for it.

Was he not willing to fight as hard as I was?

And if so, is there any future for us at all?

I haven’t replied to him and I think he’s sending me little funnies to try and get some sort of response.

I’m not ignoring him, exactly, I just don’t know who to respond. And, like I said, I’m annoyed. Was there absolutely nothing he could do? Was there no other option? I miss him terribly; I’d risk so much to be with him again, to give us the chance to be something because I can feel and sense the value in it.

Maybe I feel it more than he does and it’s as simple as that, though he always gave off the impression that we were on the same wavelength.

I don’t know what to do now. Part of me, the wild, maverick part, says to just end it before I can fall in deeper and just inevitably end up getting hurt. That it’s not worth the risk and repetition of trying to build a relationship with someone thousands of miles away.

But another voice cries out to hold on, that there is something here worth preserving; this man could be the man I end up marrying. I feel that it has all the elements of being the relationship on which I build my future life. But is such a future even possible if it’s possible that both parties are not pulling their own weight?

And we circle back to the most difficult part of trying something “long distance”. I can’t see his face or his body language or his attitude or manner, just his words. His brief, fleeting words are all I have:

I don’t think I’ll be able to get the time off 😦

Hardly much of a comfort or consolation. And if he did have to send those words, surely they should be so damn painful to send that he at least grovels a bit? Says how devastated he is and suggests a list of alternative options?

I don’t know. It just feels so hollow and empty, which I guess is part and parcel of “long distance”. I don’t want texts and promises and fleeting FaceTime calls; I want a man who is going to come with me to bed and hold me as I sleep, who is going to be there for me as I’m there for him through the good times and the bad.

Is that Charlie?

I thought so.

Am I just being selfish and spoiled by being angry? Is it wrong of me to get angry at him? Work is work, I know, and I wasn’t able to go out before because this contract came up and we both agreed that it was too good a career opportunity to pass up on. That we’d see each other soon.

Except we’re not.

I guess I’m just so disappointed; with the amazing agency that was supposed to just take me in and give a work-home. With Charlie who was supposed to be the man who we’d brave anything and everything for — the man who rearranged his travel plans so that he could be back in London for my birthday when he was here.

I guess that things look very different when you’re in California, a view I had hoped to be running away to experience before too long.

And the usual fears return: has he met someone else? Is he blowing me off? Is he actually serious about us trying to make a go of it?

I’ve asked him if he thinks we should plan forward for July. I’ll be very interested to see what his response is.

Or if it’s the worst of all — a radio silence.

An argument I can stand, that shows fire and passion. But a silence? That shows indifference, the worse sign for a burgeoning relationship that there is.

And if that is the case, perhaps I have to accept that the difference between London and California is, for now at least, too vast a distance for this relationship to cross.

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