I made the three hour or so trip to get her, an then the three hour trip back. I always called her Jenni, but I suppose Jennifer or Jen will work too. I've known her for a long time.
And once I loved her.
While she was here it was great. There were tears and smiles. Some things were easy, and some hard. My emotions were so conflicted. I never wanted to stop holding her, but at the same time I didn't want to feel like I had to hold her.
But she knew what she felt, and she gave herself completely. No one has ever done that for me before. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. I tried to push her away at times. I wanted her to go home. And I didn't. I was so conflicted. I didn't know what I want. I still don't.
She's gone now. She's gone. And I think she took a part of me with her.
I took her back to her aunt's house outside of Atlanta, and she is on, or about to get on, a plane back to her home outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I don't want her to go. I want her here. How could I have wanted her to go?
I walked into my apartment this morning for the first time since she left, and I had to look in every room to be sure she was really gone. And then it hit me. She's really gone. I feel this barely controllable despair. I don't know what to do.
She wants to come back. She says she loves me, and that she'll do whatever it takes to get me. I hope I can stop fighting her, because right now I need her more than anyone. For the first time it's not Stephanie. She's still there too, but she's not the one who I see in my arms anymore. I see the one who was really there.
"Three months," she said this morning when she called me on her way to the airport. Three months and then she would hopefully have moved in with her aunt in Atlanta. I hope it's true.
I don't want to get hurt again. I think that's what's holding me back.
I just don't know for sure. I needed more time. Hopefully in the coming months I'll get the time I need. I want her to be a part of my life. I just don't know how big a part yet.