So when does this get easier?

Two weeks ago, the night that Daniel was set to come from his family vacation to Paris and walk into what would officially be "his" apartment, I had a session with my therapist. I mentioned to him that the week prior, knowing Daniel was on the other side of the Earth and that he was on a completely different time schedule than I was actually made the distance a lot easier. If it was 8pm and I was laying in bed missing him, I didn't have the option of jumping in a car and going to see him - or of even phoning him seeing as the time on his end would have been 2am. In a weird way, it made it feel as if Daniel and I existed on different plains. That, believe it or not, was easier than knowing that we are both just a short distance from one and other today.

Daniel got to keep our apartment. We went into our living arrangement with the understanding that if anything was to go bad between the two of us he'd be the one who would ultimately deal with it. At the point of our move in, Daniel was earning around 65K - with a bunch of freelance opportunities that brought in extra cash. A job change bumped him up to 80K a year. That, on top of the freelance work he does, and the random checks for thousands of dollars that his parents send his way for Christmas and Birthdays leave it safe to say that Daniel could manage the $1750.00 per month rent on the apartment. Expensive, I know... but we really did fall in love with the place when we first saw it.

Nestled on a tree lined block right off of the water and with the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge anchored to the right of it, our apartment was a 2 bedroom, one bath, all brand new modern condo-gone-rental. NYC's real estate boom brought with it a lot of luxury condos that didn't sell. Eventually they go rental and that's when we stumbled upon this place. It has a jacuzzi tub, sub-zero fridge, dish-washer, washer/dryer, and two balconies. The place was outright sick. I remember when we went to see it - and the broker brought us up and into the spot on the private elevator. I hate the fact that he's there now and I can't help but envision some loose girl (or boy - or who the fuck knows what) step off of the private elevator and just get instantly naked because of how impressive the apartment is! I guess that shit doesn't really happen, right? I watch too much porn.

When I met with my therapist, I remember he said to me 'I think this is really where it's going to get difficult. This is the real separation. He's back at the apartment and you're not.' - I didn't realize what he meant but last night it all hit me. I was in my new bedroom ironing the curtains I don't even like very much and I suddenly broke down into hysterics. I don't even know what it was about - I just, sort of, lost it. I continued to iron.. letting the tears flow. My chest was heaving the way it does when I get really out of control with the waterworks. At some point, I picked up the cat and tried to get a hug from him. I felt extremely alone. I was extremely alone.

I had plans with an old beau - to grab coffee. When he asked to reschedule I didn't jump into other plans as I should have. I figured I'd take the opportunity to just sit back and watch some TV or catch up on the studying I need to do for my school entrance exam on May 7th. None of that happened and instead I sat around and looked online at Daniel's Facebook which I have been all but deleted from - and looked at his online status on his male sex sites. Bottom boy for fun is ONLINE. None of this helps, so why am I doing it? I saw that he was signed onto AIM for the bulk of the weekend just like I had been. All seeing this does is make me sit there and ask myself why we are just a mile and a half apart from one and other, both sitting around on a Saturday night at 11pm, and not together? That's the root of the pain. I don't understand how he can sit there and see the same thing and not have the desire to not connect with me. I suppose what everyone says may be true - he could be gay? I don't know why it's hard for me to believe or accept that. If my gay friends read this they'd probably bitch smack me for even debating it. They're all convinced as convinced can be that Daniel is, in-fact, a closeted homosexual. As a matter of fact, two of my closest gay friends made absolutely no apologies about proclaiming the idea of bi-sexuality for males is non-existent and that if you wake up in the morning and have the idea of sucking cock on your mind, you are unequivocally gay.

I would love to hear some opinions on this? I don't know that it will help me heal or accept that Daniel is gay and that this break up has little to do with my just not being "the one", but maybe strength in numbers would help?