This is not about Writing, Reading, or Knitting.

If I were to say that on Saturday I didn't shed a single tear as I left Iowa City, I'd be lying. I woke up crying, feeling frantic and downright uncertain that I could make the move. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Last week was one of the more interesting weeks I've ever had in Iowa City. I somehow found myself partnered up with someone. Like together nearly 24 hours a day partnered up. It is and it isn't what you think. But there was a level of intimacy there that I don't believe I've ever experienced. I'm not very good at relationships. I usually want too much from the other person, or I don't want anything and it frustrates my partner. This time, I didn't put any thought into, just dove right in. What are we having for brunch? Will you pick up a ginger ale? Can you move over? Where are my sunglasses? What time should I pick you up from work? What should we watch? I'm too tired. I'm stressed out. What are we doing tonight? Who was on the phone? Why didn't you call me back? Thank you. No thank you. Ours, not mine, not yours, ours. This was my week. And the intensity of a week like this escaped me until I woke up alone on my last morning in Iowa.

I'm not saying that I fell in love as I was leaving town, that's far from what happened, but I did realize how much in love I was with my life in that town and with the people who were part of that life. I don't remember feeling this way when I left New York for Iowa--perhaps because I had a strong idea of what I as in for. I was going to train to be a writer. To become someone who made literature. Yes, it was a daunting task, but it was one that made sense, and I had a clear idea of what I was getting into and seven months to prepare. This time around, I had less than half the time and half the confidence. I know what my job is going to be I just have no idea how I'm going to do it. My fauxmance (what else do you call it?) was the perfect excuse to not deal with any of these feelings and yet, it created a whole new set of emotions.

I learned a few things about myself in this last week an the most important one seems to be my complete inability to recognize intimacy, whether it's real or the kind that shields me from dealing with reality. It was much easier to walk around holding his hand than to pack up my life. It was much easier to spend time with him than my friends, because he's "super cute" (and he was) and I'm not attached to him, he won't make me cry.

So put it on the list of things I need to improve on as I continue on this new journey.

As for the Fauxmance? We're friends right now, we might see each other in a week or so or we might not. And that is okay.