Lost

March 18

So. Meg left about an hour and a half ago-- or rather, I left her at the gate. Last time I left her the rain started-- this time, it was fog that came in to mark her passing. You could almost think there's some kind of celestial stage manager taking care of this stuff, running the props, sending the moon and stars swooping in and out of view, rolling in the fog.

It hurts, her being gone, seeing her go, saying those last words, giving that last kiss (and is there any place more unsuited for kissing than an airport terminal? more painfully and totally unromantic?). The drive home was awful. Trying to sleep tonight will be awful. It doesn't get any easier, this parting; we've done it thrice already, and if anything, it hurts worse each successive time. I'm not sure why that should be, but it is. I'm somewhat comforted knowing that this is the last time we'll part this way, for this long-- in May we're together, no matter what. That will include its own set of difficulties, as we get settled, and run out of money, and adjust to one another on a day-to-day basis… but it will be wonderful nonetheless, because she'll be with me. I belong with her. We fit.

It's physical, and it hurts in my chest. I wonder if it's just because I'm so steeped in the imagery of heart-as-center-of-emotion-- presumably one could be taught to believe that consciousness resides in the middle toe of the left foot, and emotion in the right bicep. But it feels like my ribcage has been pried open and my heart scooped out rather messily, with much tearing of filaments in the process. My heart has been replaced with something spiny and pincered, some exotic form of undersea life, perhaps, with a purplish carapace and serrated limbs.

I miss her.

I'm feeling a little lost.

Work is one way to escape, and I expect to be writing quite a lot in the next weeks-- I'll begin Rangergirl in earnest, soon. Also the day-job; there's a lot for me to do there, basically re-building all our web pages from the ground up, and that will help distract me. Fiction will help, too. I've been reading Tam Lin this evening, and while on another day I might quibble with its pacing, I'm quite satisfied for now with its ability to take me away from this world and into another.

All the same… there's always a period of re-adjustment, post-Meg. Loneliness will cripple me a bit from time to time for the next several days. If any of you want to write me, now's the time. I'm not begging for affection or pats on the head-- just talk to me. Recommend books. Ask impertinent questions. Suggest really depressing songs I can listen to. Distract me.

*

Yesterday was wonderful. Me and Meg went to brunch with various members of the Strange Horizons staff, including the charming and beautiful Heather, the ever-lovely Susan, and of course Mary Anne. I'm so glad I finally had the chance to meet Mary Anne in person! Not to mention Nalo Hopkinson, who joined us for brunch-- she's as friendly and funny and interesting as everyone says.

After brunch we were off to Nalo's reading. There was a brief moment when some people thought it would be reasonable for me and Meg to give Nalo a ride, since we were driving while everyone else planned to take the BART. I quickly pointed out, however, that 1)my car is a filthy pit frequently inhabited by wasps and 2) I would almost surely manage to get lost. So, while it would have been nice to drive Nalo around, I didn't want to be responsible for making her late.

Me and Meg didn't get too lost, but we didn't take the most efficient route to the bookstore, either; they all beat us there.

At Other Change I got to see Timprov and Marissa ever so briefly, and introduce them to Mary Anne, who in her usual Mary Anneish way took over the introductions after that. Nalo read beautifully, captivatingly, and I would have loved to have spent more time with her after the reading (as Timprov and M'ris did, and it sounds like they had a fine time). But me and Meg had other plans, and so we wandered up to Telegraph Avenue to people-watch and walk a bit. After that we went to Karen and Par's for a more-extended-than-usual visit. We watched The Apostle (a flawed but very intense film-- and I loved the bits with the bulldozer), and ate assorted fruits and candies, and Meg got to fulfill her longstanding desire to hold Jeremiah. They made faces at each other. It was lovely. Then me and Meg got dinner, and drove home, and cuddled, and talked, and comforted, and slept… Today we slept in, and had breakfast, and read the Sunday paper, and watched surfers and sailboats and had lunch… and parted.

Always with the going-aways.

Something must be done about that.

Something is being done. Just not in a timely enough fashion.