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Two weeks. Ben is leaving in two weeks. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and my chest tightening  just seeing these words written down.

I’m sensing a trend. Last night, Ben was telling me a story about his friend who wants him to launch an iPhone app with him and Ben, reiterating the conversation to me, said “and I told him, ‘look. I’m leaving in two weeks and two weeks is not enough time to get this done!'” I thought I misheard him. I let it slide for a few minutes while I registered the rest of the story. Then it hit me… TWO WEEKS??!? “Is that true?” I asked him, “that you’ll be leaving in two weeks, which is well before the end of the month?”

“Well, baby, the 20th seems like as good a date as any. And if I go get my visa tomorrow then I can be gone by the 20th.

I was frozen. I wanted to scream DON’T GO!! Stay here with me! You don’t really want to leave me like this, do you? But, instead I smiled and said something like “oh wow! it’s right around the corner..”

Again, just thinking about it and seeing the words written down, I have to grind my teeth together to stop myself from crying.

I’m currently sitting in a cafe whose sole purpose is to provide a quiet work environment for people who don’t want to be bothered. In theory, I have a paper and a thesis to work on. What’s consuming my head? Ben. Stupid fucking Ben. And what’s worse is that I feel like I did this to myself. I let myself get swept up and carried away. I let myself relax into a friendship/relationship/thing. I should have known better.

Don’t cry in public. Don’t cry in public.

The crazy woman I tutor for says that I should “thank god everyday and every night and sometimes at noon that Ben is leaving.” She doesn’t approve of the friendship, stating that only children and teenagers are allowed to have close friendships with the opposite sex. She’s a little dated in her beliefs but she has told me that she believes as soon as Ben goes, I will be open to meeting to right man, whatever that means. It’s a little harsh for me to hear that I should be “thanking god” for this pain radiating through my chest and down to my finger tips every time I think about Ben’s departure. I have to keep reminding myself that she means well.

So. Two weeks. Then what?

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