At the edge.

I don't know why I am writing this; at least, writing it here. But here goes.

I am in Phoenix. He lives here. We had a fight, over a week ago. I was supposed to come visit the weekend before this; he had to cancel because he had to work. The argument on the phone culminated in him hanging up on me, and I have not heard from him since. I have called, emailed, sent text messages. Not a lot - no more than once a day. But no response.

He had said, just a couple of days before that, he could see making a life with me. And one fight changed all of that? How? Especially at our age? One day you want to build a life - the next day, one argument, and it's completely over?

So...here I am. Staying in a hotel a few miles from his apartment. I will soon get dressed in the outfit I wore on the first day I met him, and I will show up at his apartment. He may refuse to see me. I'm prepared for that.

If he does refuse, I've got plenty to keep me busy. Books, movies, I can write. I've got the hotel until Sunday, and if nothing else, it's good to get out of town for something besides a funeral. It's good to get out of my house for a bit - my normal walls, my normal life. It's good to be away, and just...be.

I don't know what the next 48 hours will hold. Maybe nothing in my life will change. Maybe everything will.