Tonight is a full moon, but this morning is a veil of clouds. The day looks to be both long and short, as all my days have become. I have only one week left in the life I've settled into for five years, then goodbye, Athens!
Worse: goodbye, boyfriend.
My amazing partner is preparing to move to France for a year (well, seven months), and I can't even think about not being near him yet. All I feel are tears, pouring onto my pillow, cutting between us, blurring all the laughter.
But all I want to feel are kisses. If there's only one week left, it had better be a hell of a good one. Go out with a bang and whatnot. We've already shared so many good memories, why not create as many more as we can?
And then? Well, we shall see. This chapter is not yet finished, that's for sure. There will be a massive scene change, but it will only spice things up. Rising action.
After my week of moving and (most likely) moping, my mother and I will drive down to the Grand Canyon and catch up on life. Then I'll present at the International Conference in Chillicothe. Then I'll move to Cincinnati, find a job and a pet-friendly apartment. I'll apply to doctoral programs. Work on my novel. Try publishing some of my poems and essays. Start being artsy again: collages, sketches, jewelry, photographs... So many emotions to capture, so much to reveal, and all without the man I love.
But aren't our twenties supposed to foster independence? Doing things ourselves, so we know we can?
Innumerable people have tread these strange paths before me, and yet no one else can walk this one for me. I feel like a new moon.
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