See, I was fine until now.

I've been considering the hard facts of life a lot more, lately, and have decided that it would definitely be best to break it off with my boyfriend of eight months before the next school year, maybe much sooner than that.

It's just when I think about looking in his eyes that I start crying. Because, eight months is a long time. He's been my best friend for ten months, too.

I'm just afraid I won't be able to take what I see. I know for a fact that he loves me, and I just really wish he didn't, because then this would be such an easier task.

He wanted to grow up together and get married, and live that life that everyone seems to want.

But, in Italy, I started thinking with all that spare time I had, and I wondered, Would I ever want that? I don't want kids, I don't want a suburban home, or to be in the freaking PTA, when I grow up! I don't want obligations like that, I'd want to take the money saved from not having kids and travel! And, what are the chances that we'd even make it so long? Why should we set ourselves up for disappointment?

The last thing I want him to be is disappointed or hurt that much.

Plus...I don't know.

I like it better when we aren't in the position where we're going to be kissing and all lovey-dovey. I like feeling like my own person, and I think I'd really prefer he get to be his own person, too, because now he's just doing what it takes to stay close to me.

And I guess there's always that chance that he'll find a girl he can love just as much and actually be with right away. I don't think I'll be able to take that, but regardless... I'm willing to take the risk. I'm scared, and I cry a lot, but at least I'm doing what I know will ultimately help.

My mind's a flood, and I'm just watching myself as I'm whisked away with the current.

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