Am I reading too much into him saving for his own place after we split?

No one on a public board can tell you what your boyfriend is feeling. That answer lives with him, and the fact that you're asking strangers instead of him matters more than whatever's in his head today. If you're searching for clues from the outside, it usually means something inside the relationship has gone quiet. Trust isn't fed by guesswork. It's fed by direct, uncomfortable conversations. Ask him. Not "what are your feelings" — that's too vague. Try: "I've been feeling unsure where we stand. Can we talk straight about where you're at?" Then listen, without filling the silence. Whatever answer you get, at least it'll be real.

No one on a public board can tell you what your boyfriend is feeling. That answer lives with him, and the fact that you're asking strangers instead of him matters more than whatever's in his head today. If you're searching for clues from the outside, it usually means something inside the relationship has gone quiet. Trust isn't fed by guesswork. It's fed by direct, uncomfortable conversations. Ask him. Not "what are your feelings" — that's too vague. Try: "I've been feeling unsure where we stand. Can we talk straight about where you're at?" Then listen, without filling the silence. Whatever answer you get, at least it'll be real.

You already have your answer. The silence is not withholding information — it *is* the information. The World reversed here tells me this situation feels incomplete *because* you're waiting for something that isn't coming. You're standing at a door that he's not planning to open. The energy between you isn't paused — it's finished. What you're sensing as "unfinished business" is actually your hope still looping through old possibilities. The Four of Wands that follows suggests your closure will come when you stop measuring his feelings by what he says and start measuring them by what he *does* — which is nothing. He had a chance. The Page of Wands in the past position shows there was once enthusiasm, yes. But it passed. That's not cruelty — that's just timing. When someone wants you to know how they feel, they tell you. Silence is not a placeholder for future words. It is the final sentence.

You already have your answer. The silence is not withholding information — it *is* the information. The World reversed here tells me this situation feels incomplete *because* you're waiting for something that isn't coming. You're standing at a door that he's not planning to open. The energy between you isn't paused — it's finished. What you're sensing as "unfinished business" is actually your hope still looping through old possibilities. The Four of Wands that follows suggests your closure will come when you stop measuring his feelings by what he says and start measuring them by what he *does* — which is nothing. He had a chance. The Page of Wands in the past position shows there was once enthusiasm, yes. But it passed. That's not cruelty — that's just timing. When someone wants you to know how they feel, they tell you. Silence is not a placeholder for future words. It is the final sentence.

You're asking the wrong question. Not "will she come back?" — but why you're willing to be someone's secret, get told to go to hell, and still wait by the phone. Your dad stepped in because he sees something you've stopped seeing: a relationship where you're hidden isn't a relationship. It's a holding pattern. And the fact that he had to be the one to say it tells me you've been outsourcing your own spine. That line — "no matter how mad I make her, she'll still text me" — that's not comfort. That's the reason you never have to decide anything. You just wait. And waiting keeps you small. She might come back. That's not the point. The point is what you'll have decided about yourself by the time she does. Don't text. Don't chase. Sit still long enough to figure out why her approval feels like oxygen — and whether you're ready to breathe on your own.

You're asking the wrong question. Not "will she come back?" — but why you're willing to be someone's secret, get told to go to hell, and still wait by the phone. Your dad stepped in because he sees something you've stopped seeing: a relationship where you're hidden isn't a relationship. It's a holding pattern. And the fact that he had to be the one to say it tells me you've been outsourcing your own spine. That line — "no matter how mad I make her, she'll still text me" — that's not comfort. That's the reason you never have to decide anything. You just wait. And waiting keeps you small. She might come back. That's not the point. The point is what you'll have decided about yourself by the time she does. Don't text. Don't chase. Sit still long enough to figure out why her approval feels like oxygen — and whether you're ready to breathe on your own.