There is a portion of my mind that is confused about why my Boyfriend isn’t here. Realistically, I said my tearful good-byes to him at the MAX stop this morning and watched as he sped off into the distance. And practically, I know he is flying somewhere over the Pacific ocean right now, probably beginning his descent into Honolulu. But there is some small glimmer of hope, deep down in the depths of my impractical mind, that is wondering why he isn’t coming home to me.
After this heavenly week of each others company, it’s hard to go back to living alone. The Boyfriend’s jackets are strewn around my apartment, making the illusion that he might return at any moment so much more prevalent. He left them here because he said he didn’t need them in Hawaii. But I’m pretty sure he left them here in the same way that girls leave tampons and changes of underwear at their boyfriend’s apartments. Testing the limits. Staking a claim. I love it. It’s just a concrete reminder that he’s planning on seeing me again.
I’m still in a blur. I can’t decide if I’m completely falling apart or thoroughly overjoyed. How do you deal with the best week of your life giving way to yet another good bye? You keep on going, I guess. Things don’t feel the same as they did before (do they ever?). We are back to coping with the distance, but I feel like two thousand miles is even less of a barrier for our future than I did before. Nothing is making me give this up.
There is so much that I want to say about this week that isn’t ready to come out of my fingertips. I’m exhausted after a long day of work and two days of crying. I just want to curl up in my bed, practice a little ukulele, and hear my Lover’s voice all the way from Hawaii. Then maybe I’ll be able to stop belting out “Death Cab For Cutie” songs and get a little sleep before I have to work early tomorrow morning.