Packing

The past two days have been both two of the hardest and the sweetest of my life. Tex, my sweet girl, is trying so hard to be present to me and how she feels for me, and I'm doing the same with her. We've been able to block out a lot of circumstantials, a lot of ego, and just go through this process together. She has helped me pack and done so with vigor, energy, humor, and generosity, and I'm completely blown away with the size of her heart in that. She is giving me s nsuch a huge gift by putting away the hurts and being open to this experience with me, this saying goodbye. We're doing it TOGETHER. So in that sense, my heart is breaking wide open and feeling every ounce of what it's sacrificing in order to make this change... and so grateful for everything it's receiving. We're at our best these days, making each other laugh, holding each other tight, romantic and almost gooey. When we cry, we cry together. How can anyone ask for a better Goodbye? There's no other way I'd want to leave than with my eyes locked on hers, our fingertips touching, slipping away, each of us knowing what we've had and what we're losing, thanking each other for it, and then closing the door.

Our apartment now is ravaged and bare. It looks exactly like someone started to move out, then suddenly stopped. Rooms are half-bare, half-echoing. We're both exhausted, worn out to the nth degree. So, though it's only 8:30, we're climbing into bed together, to pray that sleep overtakes us, and holds us close for a few hours. Tomorrow is my last day at work. Tuesday morning I leave. It's happening so fast - I'm holding on tight. I know Tex and I will both be ok... I'm endlessly grateful that it's been this gentle as I go.