evan called last weekend.

the two conversations we've had since we've broken up have been better than any we've had since i returned from melbourne mid-january.
it was strange to talk to him in a way, because there is, quite simply, little left to say. a day or two before, i had send him a short list of things i had left in australia (expecting to see them again sometime this year) which i want him to send me. there was a little bit of bile in that email, doubtlessly: i mentioned the condoms in his closet which i bought last year, and asked him to throw them away. i hate(d) the thought of him having sex with someone else with condoms i paid for. but then, i should be happy if he used them, shouldn't i, considering he was unable to purchase any himself. dear me, what made me stay with a man too fucked up to buy condoms?

our talk, however, was surprisingly bile-free. - for me, there is little left to be bitter about anymore.

for the first time ever, evan was honest when we talked: he said outright that he never wanted me to move to australia, and didn't feel comfortable with the plan, ever.

i got honest, too, telling him i had gathered that much from his behaviour (not accepting my proposed solution for the money issue, not reading immigration material, etc.), and told him that while i could at least kinda see his reasoning, i couldn't understand it, couldn't accept why he didn't want to do anything about those things that were on his mind, why he never mentioned his doubts.
i made him listen to all the hints that had been there, made him listen to the terrible thoughts his behaviour had given me, let him tell me my observations were right.
i told him that if there were any parallels between my behaviour and jen's (his ex), like he claimed in january, it wasn't because he managed to pick up two similarly fucked up women in a row, but because his behaviour caused a certain kind of behaviour in return.

i am starting to be happy we broke up now, and not in a few months, closer to my intended departure, even though this was close enough. i am happy this didn't happen after i packed. i am happy this didn't happen after my move. i am happy this didn't happen after a marriage and children, which is not out of the realm of possibility. i might have kept being quiet about my worries for a few more years, he might have kept quiet, too, and we would have been a terrible, terrible couple in return.

it hurt, and it still hurts a little, every once in a while, like when my grandma asked about evan, when the woman in a cafe in hometown asked me when we'd get married - straight after your graduation?, when my aunt asked about when evan would come, i told her he wouldn't, which kicked off a 2 hour monologue about break-ups.

it is better this way, it truly is.

i deserve more than this distance thing which poisoned my life, which made me shut down my life, in so many ways, big and small, from cutting myself off from friends, to losing track of my studies, to not repairing my bike because it wasn't worth it. i deserve to be loved. i deserve someone who cherishes me and my body, who makes me feel safe and wanted and loved.

i've started to believe that the distance was one of the reasons why i entered into my last two big relationships, with didi and evan, who both lived far away. it might sound insane, but fact is, i like control, need control, and in those ldrs, i probably (subconsciously) controlled how much i revealed of myself, even when i really didn't feel very much in control. i kept secrets from both partners, too, big secrets. idealisation played a big role in either relationship. both relationship started out as one night stands, and proceeded to deepen because i pushed for it.
one of the reasons that i was with didi was probably because i wanted to lean on someone during the major life change of starting law school and moving away, without being tied down locally. as mentioned before, one of the reasons i was with evan, was that i needed to get away from a superficial life i hated and needed an escape -australia-, too.

letting go of control has been an issue for me for quite a while. i am scared that the real caro (whoever she is, whatever she is like) is not lovable or desirable. my ocd personality has made even minute things, like letting someone else do my dishes or make my bed or cook dinner in my kitchen, almost impossible. - it's been worse when letting someone take control of a situation, of my life.
strangely enough letting go has started to feel better to me. sure, i notice myself noticing when i am letting go, like when dirk does dishes after i cooked dinner, but i *am* letting go, letting it be, not stressing about the right way™ that my dishes have to be done. i am letting go of wanting to be perfect. i show my insecurities and make myself vulnerable, even after i failed, like i did on wednesday night.

things are over with evan. and it is better this way.
i am growing and learning and changing, and will not make the same mistakes twice, or rather: a third time. i will not hide in an ldr again.