two weeks
3:15 pm, Friday, Oct. 30, 2009

Well.

Home now, each of us in our respective countries. Opposite sides of the planet.

But for two weeks we were in the same place at the same time all the time. Eating, sleeping, talking, everything.

I miss it.

The day before he left, us still driving around together, picking a place to eat, wandering around a used book store, sitting at a traffic light... I'd mist up, eyes fill, throat close, sad that he'd be gone soon.

I struggled to not let that happen, to enjoy what was there while it was there. I mostly managed.

The night before, though, it caught up. Cry, get control, cry, control, rinse, repeat. Finally we slept, just a handful of hours before time to get up and leave again for the last time.

On the way to the airport, trying to enjoy the leaves and painted autumn-ness surrounding us... control was harder to find.

Finally, at the airport, he asked if I'd be okay to drive home. "I hate to leave you like this."

"Then stay," I said. Then laughed, "That was my plan all along."

"Are these fake tears? Do you have onions in your pocket?"

We both laughed, me still crying, hugged, and he walked away. I stood and watched him going through the security check point and hoped he'd look up but the crowd obscured sightlines and I couldn't tell if he did.

Finally I gave up looking for a glimpse and went to my car, got in, turned up the radio, and drove home.

I don't know what the plan is now. Who will move where, what the time frame will be. We're still figuring it all out.

I guess some time next year (once passport is attained and savings can cover the tickets) it will be my turn to make the epic flight.

Going back to email and messenger and skype is ... bad adjectives.

Somehow we'll figure it out.