You’ve left now,
but it hasn’t hit me yet.
I wonder how long it’ll take me to absorb, because FaceTime isn’t the same when you’re 400 miles away.
I feel emotionally volatile, less so
because I know you’ve arrived. I know you’re gone, I think. Hm?
I know this is all part of our bigger plan,
but I still can’t shake this temporary pain.
It’s a Saturday.
Pre-Covid years and since getting a car, I’d spend the afternoon with you. Almost always.
I know I’ll see you again, but I can’t even say “soon”. The truth is, I really don’t know when I’ll next see you. December seems the most optimistic to me.
Even though, you know I’d risk it to be with you. You won’t let me, or you’d take it upon yourself. And I love you more for that.
You give me hope, and right now, that’s the most important thing. Your hope gives me strength.
I don’t really know how to end this.
But it’s not even been a day and I miss you so freakin’ much.
Ps. thanks for being a reason I’m writing again.