ylita
My boyfriend, Julian Vance, always said that people in relationships shouldn't use their partners as emotional dumping grounds.
So he set a rule. I got ten minutes a day to unload on him.
He said his job wore him out and he hoped I'd understand.
I agreed. I even thought he simply had strong boundaries.
Then my grandmother died, the woman who had raised me on her own.
I came back from the funeral home still gripping the reading glasses she never got to put on.
All I wanted was for Julian to hold me for a while. He sighed instead. "It isn't that I won't stay with you. It's that you've used up your quota for today."
I asked through tears, "Can't today be an exception?"
He said, "Once there's a first exception, there's a second. I have a meeting in the morning, and you need to learn to process things on your own."
But at two that morning, the woman he had never gotten over called him in tears, saying her boyfriend had dumped her.
Julian threw on a coat and talked her through it on the balcony until dawn.
I watched him through the glass for a long time.
So the ten minutes weren't his boundary. They were only the ceiling he had set for me.
In that case, I would stop taking up his time.
I turned around, packed away my grandmother's things, and left my key on the table.
Whoever he gave his time to from then on had nothing to do with me.