A two-coffee morning.

30 05 2007

The hardest part about saying goodbye this time was the fact that I wasn’t the one leaving. I’ve always been the one leaving, of the two of us, and he’s always stayed–both in New Zealand at back in the States. And now this time, I was the one staying, and there’s nothing sadder than staying. The truth was, with the exception of just a few moments of watery eyes last night, both of us were too excited to be sad. I’ll be home in three weeks, and Dennis is leaving Brazil to go do film work in New York. There’s such good stuff for both of us on the horizon that it seemed kind of ridiculous to be wallowing in self-pity and lonliness.

I won’t lie, though. When I came back home at 5:45 this morning from dropping him off at the airport, and just in time to get another hour of sleep, it felt like my apartment was much larger than it had been just hours earlier. Dennis’ presence over the past two months had filled up every corner, along with his socks and water bottles and whatnot. So when I opened the door this morning, and when I saw my own computer plugged into the outlet rather than his, and didn’t trip over his sneakers, a little part of me crumpled,  I crawled into bed with my camera, looked at the picture we’d taken while standing in the line for him to check in, and fell asleep.

But today’s weather is excellent and although it’s cold, the sky is bright blue and the sun is warming up patches of ground and I know it is a good day for flying. He will make it back to the States tomorrow morning, after four flights and a hotel room in Miami (his idea of saving money is to take four flights between Brazil and New York. I don’t blame him, especially since time is not of the essence. It was a good deal, but for thirty hours of traveling I don’t know if I’d do it myself.)

Tonight I plan to get reacquainted with my apartment. Lots of cleaning and folding laundry and reconfiguring how I move about the space now that there is more space to move around in. It’ll be interesting to remember how I spent my time here before Dennis arrived, and I anticipate I’ll be a little bored. But it’s only three weeks away, now. Three weeks exactly ’til I’ll be back at the airport boarding the plane home.




8 responses

31 05 2007

How’s the folding going? Military grade?

I know the left-behind feeling. It is the worst. In fact, its so rotten that I think it deserves a special word all for itself, don’t you?. Oxford dictionary: Horribliosys – That left-behind feeling non-travellers experience at the airport when their loved ones leave.

I watched my sister leave for the USA 15 years ago. And a few times afterwards when she would, after a quick visit to SA, return to whatever exciting place she was living at at the time (Hawaii, Philidelphia, Yosimity, Chigaco etc etc). I watched both my brothers-in-law leave for Japan last year. And now, at about the same time that you are making your happy trip home in a few weks, my wife is going to New York for her job. She will be away for 6-8 weeks. And I am so not looking forward to it. From the farewell at the airport to the arrival back to an empty home.

Horribliosys (alt): The fine art of folden clothes.

1 06 2007

I used the term “fold” loosely. By “fold” I meant: “move from living room to spare bedroom and toss onto spare bed.”

2 06 2007

ah. i see. i call that ironing 🙂

2 06 2007

You know how some cultures don’t have words for “war” or “jealousy” and therefore they don’t have those things within their culture? In my own language, I don’t have many words for things like “cleaning” or “ironing” or anything having to do with domestic responsibility. There was a while back when I was developing the proper language for the things I was doing that could have been considered “cleaning” but since I no longer really practice those things, is it entirely necessary to have words for them?

3 06 2007

I have no word for ‘second date’. That’s not a good thing, is it?

4 06 2007

Ha! HILARIOUS! (and sad, if true.)

5 06 2007

Turning tragedy into comedy. 😎
(I do sometimes get a second chance but don’t tell anyone. Ruins the joke!)

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