What kind of jacked-up fairy tale is this?

If you’ve been keeping track, Nomad is gone. He is on another continent, and might as well be in another world. Last week, I was surprised to find a Facebook message from him. Long story short, he misses me. Can’t say I’m surprise, as he is surrounded by nuns and not getting any action… and hell I’m cute! Why the hell wouldn’t he miss me; but I digress…

After several emails back and forth, I realized that there is really only one question I need to ask him. What do you expect from me, now and when you come back home? If this was a fairy tale, here’s how it would go (I’m not making much of this up by the way, just using exaggeration to make it extra fun): the brave traveler leaves his charming love at home to save Africa one family at a time. He puts oceans between them, as his feeling are too much for him and, while in the quiet solitude of Africa, he realizes that she is the one person he feels he can open up to and be with. He returns home, months later and knocks on her door. She weeps and throws her arms around him, and the camera zooms out on their embrace [fade to black].

But this, my friends, is NOT Love in the Time of Cholera, nor is it Out of Africa, or any other romantic tale. It’s my life – and it’s not nearly as entertaining. I care about him, despite his anxiety, but I have my own issues to deal with. It’s like his life in Africa freezes him in time; his feelings for me and for us won’t change, because there is nothing to change them. It only took him several oceans between us for him to figure out he doesn’t want to be alone. But me? I’m in California dating Ferrells and douches and everything in-between, getting through graduate school and working my ass off. The likelihood of me being in the same place as he is in early August isn’t good. However, I’ll let this tiny part of my life play out in a fairy tale-like manner. I can play the heroine sometimes, but I don’t know if he can be my hero.