"Because you see," I say, crossing my legs under the breakfast table, "every relationship has an expiration date. Not like, in this sad way, just. It does."
It was the first time we were hanging out. Somehow we'd gotten to talking about my best friend being my sperm donor and my views on non-marriage and all the rest of it.
And then here we are, now.
We've talked about my moving. About staying and going. Sort of about where we want to be. But there are also things within that that I'm afraid to ask about. Or I don't know how.
I decided to stay five more years. Because I could, because it made sense to, because, honestly, you're here. And I'd like to be where you are.
But I'll be honest with you, I don't think I could live here for the rest of my life. I don't know how.
You can though. And that's not wrong.
Tonight, tonight you asked me if my five-years was meant for this place, or for us.
And I told you, honestly, that it was for this place.
And it's nice, sure it is- that I haven't given us a 5 year limit or anything.
But I don't know how to answer all the other questions creeping up on me now.