I feel like I am in the middle of a breakup. The mutual kind. Where you still love each other, but you know it’s just not working out. The kind where the relationship had gotten so serious that you decided you were going to move in together only to be stuck in limbo while one or both of you search for a new place to live.
Yes, this is how this move works. That is how this feels. The other day I was packing up. Doing much of the deep packing, as I know that next weekend is going to be hectic with trying to get everything figured out plus there is a camping trip in there and a side trip to my sisiter’s. I was putting books in their appropriate boxes and sorting out the ones that didn’t belong to me. I placed those in another box with some borrowed seasons of Sex and the City and drove a familiar path to the house of my dear friend Beth. We both realized then, I think, that we’re breaking up. And then there is breaking up with dear friend and roommate Sara. Sorting our things, forgetting what’s who’s and trying not to make too much of a mess in the chaos. And then there is breaking up with my wonderful besties Lucy and Danielle. And of course, all of the people that I love dearly in this very office.
I will miss these people dearly. The drunken nights, laughter, tears, margaritas, babies puking all over me, falling into showers, gravel-traveling with a cooler, going fishing at the pond, spending that long weekend at the lake–just the girls, lazy Sunday afternoons spent attempting to garden, recounting details of great dates and horrible kissers, long conversations when the loneliness of the road took over, shared dinners, shared fears, shared secrets, shared heartache.
The distance is growing as the days go on, not so much by intention but by circumstance, and we’re definitely breaking up. And it hurts… it’s one of those long and painful breaks. Not the immediate, band-aid style, quick break we prefer.
Just know, ladies, I expect all your asses to come visit me in the CO!