She leaves tomorrow.
It’s a common story in the blogosphere, especially here in the land of the travel blogger. Change of circumstances and the blogs dry up. Ecuador was just about done, but there were a couple things left to mention.
But a month ago today we came back to the U.S., and have spent the weeks eating, visiting friends and family, and seeing all the stuff that I should have shown her the first time. Or the second, or third.
There are blogs in there, but for now I can’t see outside the moment. I won’t see outside the moment.
Because today is waking up slow, sunshine on the sheets and a ridiculously loveable cat within reach. It’s biking a couple blocks to the store for fresh fruit, yogurt and granola for breakfast, and eating it in the sun, together, plus the cat.
It’s tending the koi pond a bit, and sitting to pristine conversation, again the sun, again the cat. It’s celebration, unity, and love.
Tonight it will be dinner for two in a good restaurant provided for by dear friends. It will probably be a tasty dessert, and maybe some Arrested Development before bed? A walk along the beachfront path, waves, stars, and moonlight?
But then there’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is a single one-way ticket to another continent and dropping her off at the airport to use it. It’s another plane, working perfectly but doing the wrong thing, increasing distance instead of traversing it.
It’s coming home, alone, to a house whose definition of quiet is abruptly changed. It’s dinner for one, where there used to be two, and leftover space in the bed. It’s starting up skype, and trying to appreciate it instead of hating it.
I love today.
it will pass.