JamieStar

Neal passed all the necessary tests and background checks. He's flying out to start his new job today. The phrase "dream job" wouldn't be an exaggeration. He's apologized hundreds of times for being so happy to move out and leave me. He's not though, I know. It's just a great, great job.

I cancelled everything a couple of days ago and we sequestered ourselves in the house until right now.

There was so much work to do, we barely had time to be together. What a waste.

Even bigger waste - I came home from work early yesterday, was feeling pretty beat, so I went to lie down for a minute. On Neal's last day living here, I conked out for four hours. What the hell is that? I felt sick about it when I woke up.

Can you believe I started crying right away when he told me he got the job? I couldn't. My reaction took us both by surprise, I think.

I've been finding it hard to sit still. My brain and my body are scattered, and I've been bouncing back and forth between wanting to stop everything for a fucking minute and trying to move on with my normal life that has to continue once he's gone.

Once I woke up and he finished packing at 3:30 a.m., we had a great night, though. I spent a lot of the together time staring at his face and parts of his body, trying to commit to memory they way his arms and ears and eyes look there with me, so when they're not, I might be able to bring them up and feel some comfort.

That never works, though. You're never able to remember how you want to, huh? Poor substitute and all.

So now I have to drive him to the airport. I'm dreading the hour and a half drive home by myself, followed by walking into an empty apartment. By some freak coincidence, every single friend I have is either out of town or working. Man, I hope I don't make too big of an ass of myself in the airport. Although, sobbing so hard that security mistakes me for a reluctant terrorist on a suicide mission would make for some good, good writing, eh?

So now I have to drive him to the airport.

I said that already, I know. I'm writing that for me, because I don't think my brain and my heart understand what my body has to go and do in a couple of minutes.

So now I have to drive him to the airport.

Would pretending like I'm just dropping him off for a little while be better? Like, "Bye, Neal. Enjoy your visit to Ohio. I'll miss you, but I'll see you in a few weeks."

Nah. That's probably a bad idea.

So now I have to drive him to the airport.

I have to do this. I'm just not sure if I can.

So now I have to drive him to the airport.

Fuck. Bye.