Should I stay or should I go

I've come to realize that in all its mundane morosity my life does not, in any way, resemble the glamorous, effervescently sexy and very happening life of Carrie Bradshaw. Time has come to acknowledge that I might have turned into Liz Jones. Crap.

My fabulous friends on the other hand have provided some balance (and a glimpse of the life I too might have, should I ever find a job that pays. Preferably well). Over posh afternoon teas (insert squeals of delight here) and buckets of Piper Heidsieck (yes, my friends drink champagne. The good stuff. I did tell you they were fabulous...) we've been pondering and discussing and analyzing the dilemma that has now taken over my life: should I take a chance and fly to see The Man?

I hate being this girl who bores her friends (the most valuable only asset I currently have) to death with endless ramblings of "he said she said". I want to either have or not have a relationship, not wallow and analyze whether I might, after all, actually have a relationship. But that I have become. Crap.

Turned out that The Man planned this trip back in December, thinking that by now we'd be living together in the city where he's been trying to close that deal for 2 years now and wanted to surprise me with a weekend break in a city from which we have such lovely memories. 

But let's face it: this is not going to be just another weekend break anymore. This whole trip comes with so much baggage and worries. I'm terrified to point of nausea. Yes, he literally makes me sick.

I tried the rational approach and a pros and cons- spreadsheet. And this is how it turned out: 

pros: it is a weekend in a city from which we have such lovely memories

cons: it is a weekend in a city from which we have such lovely memories.

So... no help there.

What I was hoping to see (one day) was The Grand Gesture; The Man going the distance and making the effort. Now part of me (and not a very small part) can't help but feel that this is yet another case of him clicking his fingers and me coming running like a starving puppy. 

So I asked him how he envisioned the weekend to turn out. ""Awkward" he said. If that's his best shot at selling this genuinely ridiculous idea to me, it's probably a good thing he's not trying to carve himself a lucrative career in marketing. I asked if he thought that it would be worth it. "Can't think why not", was his response. As you can see, we're not dealing with Shakespeare here.

I feel the overwhelming need to protect my heart from any more heartache and am trying to figure out what this weekend is supposed to be about. I've been trying to put my foot down in the past. I've thought I'd made myself clear. Yet, this relationship is a logistical nightmare and any kind of attempts to wrap things up have invariably taken place over phone, text messages, Messenger and Skype. So... is this just a way to end things in a civilized manner (his country did give the world Hyacinth Bucket); to get that much needed closure face to face? Or is this just a random dirty weekend away (can't deny, won't deny- could do with a bit of that too) ? Or is this, lo and behold, the start of something new? 

I had to ask him as I figured that this disaster-in-the making might be even more disastrous if we enter that hotel room with completely different expectations. 

And this is what he said: "I see it as a possibility for a new beginning".