Page 86 of Dallas

“Do I look like I’m being taken advantage of?”

“We haven’t discussed it, Dallas, and that’s why I’m bringing it up. I want you to know that I have other options. I feel like it’s really important that you know that.”

“Well, I know it. But I don’t like it. I want you in my bed.”

“I know you do. I can still be in your bed sometimes.”

“No,” I say.

“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t be inflexible and ridiculous. I have to… I’m trying to do school and work and figure myself the fuck out. Ineedto figure myself out.”

I feel like I’m bleeding out here in the middle of the desolate highway, like I’m losing her all over again. “You can’t figure yourself out with me?”

“I can I just… I feel like I’m your parasite. I latched onto you with my sharp little teeth and I’m feeding off you. Like I don’t function if I’m not with you, and I know that we spent ten years apart. I know that. But it just feels like I’m pathetic without you, and I don’t want to feel pathetic. I don’t want to feel dependent.”

My heart is pounding in my ears. “Being in a relationship with someone is not being dependent.”

She looks away from me. “We haven’t really discussed what we are.”

“What do youthink?”

I feel defensive, and raw, and that’s not the right way to behave and I damn well know it. She deserves for me to be gentle. For me to listen to what she’s trying to say, but I feel hurt, and it makes me want to lash out.

“Sarah,” I say. “Haven’t I made it clear that you’re not a burden?”

“Yes, but… Dallas, we are from dysfunction alley. Okay. And it all just feels a little bit too neat, don’t you think? Like we’re falling into a pattern rather than actually making a choice. Like this feels like the easiest thing for us to do. And I just feel like… You told me that you want to get married someday. There’s this theoretical woman that you’re going to meet in your thirties, when you’re both older and you’re established and… you know, I think that’s smart. I don’t know what I want. Honestly, until recently, the idea of getting married… It never even crossed my mind. Much less having kids. I’m just not there at all.”

There’s a car coming up behind me on the road, and I have to start driving again. The only sound is the tires on the asphalt, and there are a lot of things I want to say. A whole lot of things, but they would require me exposing myself, and I don’t want to do that. So I keep my mouth shut. And I just drive on.

“Don’t be mad at me,” she says, her voice small. “I’m not… I’m not ending anything.”

“I know,” I say.

I didn’t know. Suddenly, I feel like I can breathe a little better, even though I’m still angry.

“You’re acting upset.”

“Yeah. I’m upset. Because you talked to Allison, clearly, and you didn’t talk to me.”

“She’s my friend. And thisisme talking to you. Don’t be petty.”

“I’m not petty.”

“You’re a little bit petty.”

My abandonment issues have issues, and this is scratching at all of them, and she’s right. She didn’t say she wanted to break up.

She’s also right — under no other circumstances under which I would ever be cohabitating with somebody after this short amount of time.

But she’s not just anyone. She’s special. She’s trying to turn this into a normal relationship. When it just isn’t.

Then I think about what my uncle said. About how he had to wait for his wife. She was married to another man. I can’t even imagine that. Her marrying somebody else. Her belonging to someone else, the idea of letting somebody else touch her makes me feel like committing a murder. But maybe there’s something to what he said. That sometimes you have to wait until the right moment. The right person will always be there. Hell, we found each other after ten years. Maybe we just need ten more.

That makes my stomach feel sour.

Yeah, she’s not breaking up with me, but she’s putting distance between us. I don’t like it.

“Please don’t be mad,” she says. “I just want… I think it’s important for me to figure out how to stand on my own feet.”

---