Chapter Text
March 12, 2014
A couple of days ago, Lizzie received a call from her mother with some surprising news. Without alerting their daughters, the Bennets sold their house and are moving out next week. In a flurry of activity and emotion, Lizzie left this morning to go back and salvage any of her belongings she wishes to keep. She has only been gone a few hours and she will return in a few days, but I find myself feeling bereft.
It is astounding and disconcerting to realize how much I have come to depend upon Lizzie in this past year. I have not felt the need to write in this journal, until now. Although she refuses to move in with me, we have not been in different cities for more than a night or two throughout the course of the past year. I am unsettled and somewhat disturbed by my feelings of loss and loneliness. It is absurd; in fact, I have talked to Lizzie no fewer than four times already today and expect to speak with her at least once or twice more. And yet, I miss her. She continues to be precious to me.
I had planned a romantic get-away for this weekend. Not the whole weekend, because Lizzie and Charlotte wanted to celebrate their birthdays together. But, at least we would have had one special night to commemorate the one-year anniversary of our relationship. How can I bemoan my loss of the weekend when Lizzie is facing the loss of her childhood home and the ordeal of sorting through her possessions this week? I cannot believe that I am feeling so sorry for myself when there is not reason.
I cannot talk myself out of my feelings. And so, I have turned to my journal once again. I tried reading it before I started writing, but I found that I do not want to return to the place that I was before Lizzie forced me to evaluate myself. And, I certainly do not want to return to the time when I was unsure of Lizzie’s regard for me. At least this year has taught me that she loves me, she says as much as I love her, but I am not sure that is possible. There is so much more to love in her.
And thus, I know that Lizzie loves me, that I will talk to her many times while she is gone, and that she will return in a few days. And still, I am melancholy and yearning. I think I am yearning for more than her return. Ah, the phone…