I’ll start with last night. I usually have trouble sleeping after a day of hiking. I’ve always blamed it on energy – on my adrenaline still pumping too strongly for hours after the hike is done. And last night felt a bit like that – but also different. I tossed and turned, plumping up pillows, going to fetch a drink of water, throwing covers on and off. I think it was more than restlessness, however. It’s been a while since I’ve had this big bed all to myself and where once it was wonderful to roll around in so much space – now it feels empty and odd to not turn over and brush against my lover’s skin, to not here his breathing or to feel his warmth next to me. We’ve shared our lives so closely for so long that being apart doesn’t feel quite right.
But we will be apart, probably for at least two months. And that’s okay. We will only be apart in body. Still, it feels odd – alien – that “not quite right” place in the universe.
Then, when I woke up this morning, at the blessedly late hour of 6.30 a.m., I set about getting things done – the small things. Some days are like that: dedicated to details and totally devoid of importance. Except, of course, the small things are also important. You can never underestimate how they pave the way for the larger events in life.
Today was about dog walking, cleaning hiking boots, washing dog blankets, shopping for two households (the RV and the loft), picking apples and raspberries, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, baking protein cookies…. it was a long list and it’s not yet complete.
This evening, I pick Simon up from the airport and tomorrow – well, tomorrow we prepare to head back to the new property for a week. Feelings? Excitement, anticipation, trepidation, anxiety (and near panic earlier today), and, most of all, love.
I see the cliff. I am prepared to jump, trusting that instead of dropping like a stone, I will spread my wings and fly.