Dear Amy: In college in Montana, I majored in equine studies. After trying for four years, I finally got into an extremely competitive internship working with thoroughbreds in Kentucky. I started right after graduation.
During my junior year I met my boyfriend, “Alex.” We have now been together for over three years. I can’t imagine my life without him.
Alex started law school when I started the internship. I absolutely loved the internship, even though I was working 12-hour days. But I still cried most days and held onto one of his sweatshirts every night.
When the internship ended, I got a job with a poultry company back in Montana. A year and a half later, I have not stopped talking about or thinking about Kentucky.
My boyfriend is from Indiana and wants to return to his hometown after graduation, where he will have a client base and connections.
Kentucky is completely out of the picture for him, but I would love to go back. Neither one of us wants to deliver an ultimatum, but he said that if I go back to Kentucky, it would likely put the “nail in the coffin” for us.
I don’t think we could do long distance again.
My heart is torn. I know that we need to grow as individuals, but I am so lost.
Will I be wondering “what if” forever?
Do I really have to choose between chasing my dreams and love?
— Woman Torn in Two
Dear Torn: You say that you and your boyfriend are not delivering ultimatums, but — I think you should check your in-box, because he has delivered one to you, and it’s dressed up in the dreary “nail in the coffin” cliché. Yikes.
If you clung to his sweatshirt and cried every day during a period of separation, despite engaging in an engrossing and fascinating pursuit of your own, then it might be best for you to understand that there are horses in Indiana (lots of them), although the prestige and experience of working in Kentucky would put you in the top category in your field.
A red flag here is that despite your devoted attachment, you are an adventurous woman with a location-dependent dream — hooked up with a hometown guy who can’t (or won’t) imagine pursuing a law career anywhere else.
This is a fairly rigid and limiting way of viewing his own prospects and, even if you did decide to cling to the man instead of his sweatshirt, you should understand that you two have different-sized dreams and attachment styles.
You two might have charged out of the gate together, but this difference is likely to affect your success in the home stretch.
Dear Amy: Summer is almost here and a house on our street has a really unkempt lawn. It looks like it hasn’t been mowed at all.
We live on a nice street with small front lawns, and all the neighbors take pride. There is a local ordinance regarding this, but I’m on the fence about turning in these people. Another neighbor mentioned reporting them, and we were both wondering what you think.
— Neat Neighbor
Dear Neighbor: You don’t seem to know this family, but before turning them in, you might want to knock on their door and offer to cut their front lawn for them. Tell them, “It’s no big deal — zip zip and I’ll be done in 15 minutes.”
They might be older, unwell, or overwhelmed.
Some church and community groups will take on this task, bringing over a small crew of volunteers, and I assume that this assistance is gratefully received by the homeowners.
Dear Amy: “Tired of Hosting” was a mom who was tired of always being the one to host playdates for her son and his bestie.
I was the kid who never reciprocated after playing at others’ homes.
My mother was divorced and worked full time, but she also drank too much.
I spent a large portion of my time at my best friend’s house and spent the night there often.
Honestly, it kept me in a more supportive environment and as I grew older, I realized that my friend’s mom may have known this — and I am grateful.
— Grateful
Dear Grateful: Many people have responded with stories like yours (and yes, I am crying, too). So many unsung heroes.
I think it would be great if you found a way to reach out to the family that helped to raise you — to offer them your thanks.
(You can email Amy Dickinson at askamy@amydickinson.com or send a letter to Ask Amy, P.O. Box 194, Freeville, NY 13068. You can also follow her on Twitter @askingamy or Facebook.)
