It used to be that when CBG and I said our goodbyes, there were lots of tears (well, from me, anyhow). Hell, sometimes I would find the emotion welling up a full day before his departure. Our goodbyes would last an hour or more, CBG comforting me through my tears.
It was always hard.
Over time, I learned to keep my tears to myself. I was able to wait until CBG had driven out of sight and I was safe inside my apartment before allowing the tears to come. I would cry for a while and then wipe my eyes and then dive into something that would distract me from the hurt.
It’s been a long time now since we’ve had a tearful goodbye. Sure, it’s still hard to let him leave like that. My bed still feels pretty damn empty the first few nights after he’s not here. There still feels like there’s something missing when we’re not together. I still dream of the day when we’re together on a more permanent basis.
I have reached that magical land of acceptance, I guess. I am able to accept where things are for us right now (even if I don’t necessarily like them). I am building myself a good life here, on my own. I have discovered inner strength and independence that I had no idea I had. I am happy with the life that I have outside of the one that I have with CBG. Sure, I still wish that he were here to share that life with me…but I know that I can be ok on my own for now.
It’s a good feeling, particularly after the struggle that it’s been to get here.
Last night I gave CBG one last long huge hug and kiss before he got into his car to leave. I drank in everything – his smell, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, the warmth and safety of his arms around me. I drank it in and filled myself up with it, knowing that it would be enough until we are together again.
Only 11 more sleeps to go.