Tears and the exhalation of breath I've held in so long;
The hard knot inside me dissolving a little bit more;
A divergence.

A decision of sorts.
Now officially on probation, us both.
Honesty, a sword cutting through the fatty layers.

Leaving the true meat inside, still intact.

The pain of last night was like a visit to the Blood Bank.
I gave, I was drained, I am lightheaded, I ate a cookie.
I screamed, I shut down, I rebooted, I cried, I did all I
could to leash the rage that lunged fiercely at Hugo.
Rage feeds and the love I have inside, for myself,
as well as for Hugo, is poisoned.

The bottom line is that we talked.
We talked about ending our relationship.
We discussed all the reasons why we should,
and cried for all the reasons why we didn't want to.

We won't lose each other. I am adamant about this.

But it's obvious that in "spending time together"
(when much of that time has been on a superficial level as of late),
we are doing each other a disservice.

We could spend 24 hours straight together and still not talk about or resolve,
what's wrong with us.

And if there's no way to fix it, we decided, the only thing to do for now
is to step away.

Not an upheaval, not tearing down what we have built.
But like any investment, evaluating the process and productivity to date
(which requires space and objectivity)
and deciding how best to implement new processes to facilitate
better communication, growth and creating a more ideal environment for love to thrive.

This is not an easy thing.
We can't do it from the inside.

So this morning, when he awoke and dressed, he kissed me and embraced me with love,
but no tears. We cried together last night.

There's so much love between us. And he says his love for me is more impassioned now than
when we lived together, and more substantial than when we first started dating.

It's been an expensive investment.
Which may yet yield reward.
But our love, like so many blue chip stocks out there,
has taken a downturn.

This morning as he left, he said:
"Well, I guess I'll see you sometime the road."

This kind of broke my heart again a little.
For him too, it was hard to say.

- Does it have to be like that? I said.

To which he replied:

- How about this then -- you call me when you want me, and I will come to you.

- Okay, I said.

We kiss and have one long hug.

- I love you babygirl, he said.

- I love you too, I said back.

And it wasn't a lie.

So does this mean the Dopamine Junkie is free? Free to wreak havoc on the city of her birth?

I guess, at this point, it's really up to me.