There were tears. There were also hugs and kisses, and Nelson’s “C’mon man” when he spotted Evan with the camera taping us at the airport. It was cute.
I want to make something clear, for those of us that travel while in relationships. Saying ‘Goodbye’ or “I’ll see you later” or in ‘twelve weeks’ NEVER gets easy. After a year in Japan (6 months of that functioning as a unit, and 6 months not) you’d think I’d be getting better with this.
Insert freak-out, tantrum, silent bitchfest #2 of 2010. Stress caught ahold of my ass the night before departing and shook me down. After a lovely last day at 5 Points (photos posted soon after I edit them. One of many goals on this lengthy flight) then down to Water Street, in Brooklyn, I enjoyed this man’s company. It was calm, beautiful, and us.
Fucked up NYC trains, and the impending packing that needed to be done mounted when we got home at 10pm and I realized I had to wake up at 5:30am.
The Aries monster, whom thinks she’s Superwoman, reared her head and the horns came out. Driving the boyfriend to the living room, to let me grovel in my shit the night before I left. And I did.
Silent crying in the bedroom and the bathroom took place and I couldn’t regain the cool. The pressure of packing the room, packing for the trip, seeing the magnitude of the potential financial risk of the trip, and the very real reality of leaving Zorro (my cat) and Nelson dug into my core like a sword. It was too much. Too much for one person to bear and I broke, in tears…
Love is love. With that, you will always miss the one you love if what you have is genuine. There’s no question. It’s only 12 weeks. A mere 12 weeks in what I hope to be a lifetime. A mere time blip in the Matrix. How do I know that we’ll be ok?
Because the only thing more abundant than my tears is my love...