The art of goodbye

I had a really long drive home yesterday from visiting. This was the first drive home since the time change and I am not a fan. My night vision isn`t fantastic and my judgment of distance is questionable so it takes me forever to get anywhere in the dark, especially on some desolate desert highway with little light. I got home about the same time but my entire drive home was a rollercoaster of emotions made more intense by the early sunset. I was tired, cranky, and not ready to let go of my visit.

Saying goodbye yesterday was difficult. My husband isn`t one to say goodbye and turn and walk away. He turns around, again and again, hoping to say he loves me just once more, or to flash me one of his boyish grins that make me light up inside. Yesterday he was the first to be taken back and I stood on my tippy toes to look over the guard station and blow him more kisses and then he was gone. Just like that. My love, my everything was gone within seconds that felt like they moved in slow motion and then the harsh slap of reality set in: I was going home alone. For some reason everything yesterday was the perfect storm for intense emotions to arise. I watched every visitor turn back to their loved ones for just one more connection. “I love you. Remember that”, one guy said. “I love you. Thank you for coming”, said another. I felt like I could be taken away by some overwhelming tide of sadness right then and there.

I try really hard not to be sad at the end of a visit or shed light on the fact that I want to cry sometimes. This situation has conditioned me to keep myself together in the moment, to be aware of the reality of my marriage, and mostly to be strong. I`ve visited countless times and I have the art of goodbye down.



About Desiree

Living my truth, one post at a time. View all posts by Desiree

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