There is a shift. Sunday night feels off. S comes over for dinner and I am filling him in on my potential room mates.
The topic is awkward. I know that no one will stay after the baby is born. I also know that I can’t afford the space on my own. It’s way too early to consider moving in with S. However, it’s a logical thought since he has an extra master suite. Whatever our relationship is, this would be certainly be easier.
I am not ready to talk about this. I’d rather continue getting to know him. I try to keep the conversation light with dumb-ass stories about the 2 candidates. I feel inauthentic. He’s a smart guy—he can sense it.
“We are not going to live together.”
“I’m not ready to talk about this. Can we wait until February?”
I shut down. He shuts down.
The rest is fuzzy and awkward. We have dinner. He leaves. I feel rejected.
I should have let the topic breathe and we could have explored it.
I need to own that. I leave an apology on his VM for trying to control the topic and some other stuff. I send him the new Tribe Called Quest album. I don’t hear back.