Continue dating when he tells you the possibility of the move one month in. You’re, like, an adult now. Or something. You have chill. This can be casual. Whatever.
Learn that you are actually not a chill adult and you are falling for this dude. Be torn about opening up and being emotionally guarded because of potential move. Opt for latter (also because you are awkward as hell).
Learn of offer. Be simultaneously proud of him, excited for his opportunity, semi-hopeful for a LDR (but not really because long distance sucks and it’s extremely unlikely), and sad because of very likely impending breakup.
Talk about it. It’s over when he goes. Cry uncontrollably because it hurts even though it’s not at all unexpected. Decide to stop seeing him before he actually leaves in an attempt to get over it faster.
Start crying in restaurant when friend suggests dinner to make you feel better. Waiter somehow manages to cheer you up slightly. Feel extremely guilty and embarrassed that you made him deal with it when he probably just wants to go home.
Renege on “no contact” decision less than 24 hours later because YOLO and shit.
Deny till you fucking die. Try to not get any more emotionally involved. It’s hard.
Departure date approaches. Suffer crumbling self-control. Wonder aimlessly if he will miss you as much as you miss him.
Annoy friends to death with elaborate conspiracy theories involving him not actually moving but just wanting to break up. Feel amused at your ridiculous state of mind.