I never considered the end

We were so certain of ourselves. Of the strength and elasticity of our love that we even dared to say that evil word: forever.
And now I'm facing the end. I don't know, can't gauge if G can tell if something is up. We speak on the phone so seldom, and a whole new world has just opened before him.
I can't bear it. It's a weird mixture of feelings, but if I can't live in a bubble with him (which is the only way it can work- not his fault, mine) I can't live with him at all.
In over two years we haven't managed to gel together properly. It is a case of what Andrew said, way back a year ago, when he said that some relationships are place-specific. And to a great extent that is true. We both had our mutual friends here in London, but in Australia and Hungary it became evident that without the bubble we are fucked.
The spark is gone. I was saying to Matt last night that that was the bottom line. I want to still be his friend, but I can't deal with the rest. With the art and the movies and the saturation of our lives with what I no longer consider that important. Being up-to-date as it were. I can't do it anymore.
I grew up in Corio you know...