Leaving

Today we held hands over your bag which was between us. Both of us were tired, dark circles beneath our eyes; purple with sadness and exhaustion. As we got closer to the airport, we held hands. We didn’t talk. But your grip got tighter and as the airplanes got bigger I could feel you getting smaller in the seat next to mine.

I don’t like it when you leave.

I really didn’t like you leaving today.

So much of this week felt like I had failed you so deeply I would never know how to undo the damage I had caused.

Now that I am in the silence of my bedroom, I’m not sure that I am totally to blame for everything that went wrong. In fact, I think I shouldn’t be so arrogant to think that I am the only one causing a problem.

But there is a problem, and I am deeply hopeful that we can figure it out.

My heart is expansive and extending towards you. I bounce back pretty quickly but in these moments of confused sorrow I feel old and brittle. I feel like I have made a huge error somewhere in my love life and now I will never be able to love the way I know I can, the way I know I deserve to.

Perhaps that is over-dramatic and perhaps a little lackluster in faith. But I am so sad. And I am so tired. And I feel like you took my heart right onto that airplane with you and now I am left a shell. And an angry one at that.

I just wish we could re-do.

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