sometimes a girl just needs a good label

i have somehow lost my way in my search for butterflies.
tonight i feel empty and lost after feeling full and found for a staggering three months.
yes, people, three.  this is big for me, okay?

oh mr. bank, how i will miss you.  he entered  my life with such gusto, grace, and fun that i never wanted him to leave.  but leave he did - off to the big city - the city that i seem to lose all of my lovers to.  he met me on a Thursday and found out the following Monday that he had received the job offer of a lifetime, a job that would require relocation. 

instead of running in the other direction, he talked to me about it.  yes, talked. like, as in feelings and shit.  he told me that he liked where this was going and that he wanted to continue it even after he moved to the big city.  was i up for it?

hell yeah homie.

and so began a month of moving preparations and constantly trying to push the feeling of anxiety and insecurity over a long distance relationship out of my head.  we had only been dating a month and he was leaving.  how do you get to know someone when they are five hours away?

you make it work, people.  or so tim gunn would say.

and oh, i tried. i tried so.damn.hard to make it work.  he moved - on a rainy August morning and we made plans for me to go down and visit him two weekend's later.  the visit was mixed with feelings of passion, happiness, sadness, and pure embarassment.

yes, i said embarssment.  i drank too much wine on friday night and let it slip i had referred to him as my BOYFRIEND to a coworker.  he took the word BOYFRIEND as though it was the most vile thing he had ever heard.

"wow," he said, "i haven't been labelled in a really long time."
wow indeed.

i was so hurt and thrown back that i was rendered speechless for what seemed like 5 minutes.  it probably wasn't even 5 seconds.  so i apologized and changed the subject immediately.  but it wasn't the same after.

not at all the same.  after i left Sunday night and flew back to my wonderful home, i couldn't help but feel terrible about the whole thing.  why was he so worried about a label?  i'm a marketer - my life is full of labels and branding.  sometimes a girl needs a good label, i think.

and Mr. Bank wouldn't give it to me.  and to add to my misery, his texting was inconsisent and cold upon my return from his new home.  i was confused and sad - gone were the days of cute pet names and random sexting.  Mr. Bank had become distant and weird. 

i won't get into the nitty details but he ended it tonight.  he was so uncomfortable with my boyfriend bomb that he said he felt smothered and pressured between two cities.  it appears that in the end, i was dumped over a stupid label.  

but why do labels get such a bad rap? they aren't necessarily a bad thing.  labels help us  identify and they hold recognizable features that make us feel comfortable and safe.  that's all i wanted with Mr. Bank - comfortable and safe.  secure and wanted.   and now that's gone.  all because of my want for a label in the first place.

good bye Mr. Bank.