I left again today for Connecticut. The last time I’ll ever leave for Connecticut again. And it was different. Normally we hug and we hug and we hug. We hold on and it takes what feels like forever to let go. We used to hug and the hug used to get tighter. But today it didn’t. Today we just hugged and you brushed my back – “Text me when you get there.”
It didn’t feel like enough.
I tried not to look back but I tried to time it so that I would see your car drive away, but I missed it.
I only heard the screech of your wheels as you sped away.
Were you crying?
Are you crying?
Because I am.
The minute I felt your body slip away from mine,
the second I had to let go,
the moment you began to pull away from me.
I’m crying and my heart hurts and it doesn’t stop.
It’ll never stop.
Today when you showed up at the door, your eyes were a little red. A little puffy. And maybe I was only imagining it, but were those left over tears?
And yesterday, for Father’s Day – when you said you had to leave at noon for work and I wasn’t able to leave to meet you at our grandparent’s until 11:50. It was the most stressful 7 minutes of my life. I wish mom would have driven faster, I wish she would have floored it, ran the red lights and pushed the cars in front of us out of the way, all so I could get to you faster. I was so afraid you’d leave before I got there. That fear alone was suffocating, my heart felt like it didn’t want to beat and it felt like an elephant was stomping the air out of my lungs. I held onto your mail from home, so tightly like it was actually that important – like it was an extension of you, just because it had your name on it.
Frantically sending you text messages:
“We’re leaving now.”
“We’re on March, but don’t be late for work.” Wait for me, please.
The whole car ride to my grandparents I cried, I cried thinking that I’d miss seeing you. I cuuld give a fuck about Father’s day. The fear of missing you, of not seeing you, consumes me, it eats me alive.
And the relief when I stepped in the door and saw that you were still sitting there, that you had waited the 7 minutes for me.
Smile, pinch my nose and suck up the tears – just tell her I was crying during a TV show we were watching before we left.
This is a picture I took the last week when we were both driving the same way on the freeway. I stayed behind you most of the way and seeing your car made me feel so relaxed. Seeing you there, in front of me was so relieving. Things finally felt concrete. I felt like I could breathe, finally – and breathe well.
I wanted it to stay that way.
And the moment we split directions coming down I-5,
the tears came.
I wanted to keep looking to my left – just to keep you in my line of sight,
even if it meant crashing into the car in front of me.
I love you so much M.
It makes me lose myself,
it makes me reckless,
and it’s all worth it if you’re here with me.