Fly Away Home

I don't want to sleep for a year. Just for two months. That's when my love is coming to visit me again. Two long lonely cold-sheets months...

Meg flew away at 11 p.m. last night. I left the airport terminal just as the rain began, trudging back to my car, getting wet. The rain continued as I drove home, listening to loud music, trying to stave off depression by singing along. Once I got home I stretched out in my too-big, too-empty bed and listened to water patter on the windows and rush through the gutters.

The weather was beautiful while she was here. It waited until she left to get nasty.

Yesterday morning we went to the beach and read stories about witches to each other. We had a picnic on the rocks. We talked. I love the day-to-day with her, you know? Just having her around to talk to, to play Scrabble with, to watch movies, to make dinner. It's so hard watching her leave. Time goes so fast when she's here. The only time I regret moving to Santa Cruz is when I think about how far away she is.

But if I hadn't moved, if I'd stayed for her, I would have resented her. This move showed me how much she means to me. This is a new feeling for me. I've always been confident in my ability to walk away... but I couldn't do that with Meg. 3,000 miles isn't enough to keep us apart. And we'll close that gap in a few months...

Seeing Meg is nice but leaving her is sad but seeing her is nicer than leaving her is sad.

I guess that's all I have to say about it. I don't want to upset myself.

I expect you guys'll be getting a lot of Tropism entries for the next few days... I'll be starving for contact, even once-removed contact like this.