Busy. I've been slowly unpacking more of my things and putting them around Ryan's house. I still think of it as his house, I should probably try to change that thinking. I think some part of me will always think of it as his and not ours, even after years of being here. It's only natural, I suppose, since it was his place for so long before I came around.
Tiring. I've been working a lot more than usual lately. And then combine that with the unpacking, I can't wait to crawl into bed at night and close my eyes and let sleep overtake me.
Lonely. Ryan was gone all week. Halfway across the world, nowhere near me.
Conflicting. I barely talked to him at all over the week. With the time difference, he would call and miss me, or call in the middle of the night. And yet? I don't know if I wanted to talk to him. Maybe I was working and throwing myself into unpacking just so I would fall into a deep sleep and not hear the phone when it rang. There were too many things that were left unsaid, but they shouldn't be said when we're not in the same place. And if they should be said at all is still up for debate, because we argue and argue and go in circles. I don't agree with him at all. And he doesn't agree with me. And we try to see the other's point, but how we feel is so overpowering that it doesn't matter if I see his point, because in my mind, he's wrong and that's all there is to it. I'm sure he feels the same way about me and my opinions.
I could list more words. Exhausting, betrayed, hurt, sad. But it would all lead me to the same place I'm at now.
None of those words are very happy. Maybe next week will be better.