Leaving On A Jet Plane

So today, this morning, the Boyfriend set off for his great adventure overseas. He’s going as part of a group, and they’re all going to the airport together on busses, so nobody gets lost on the way, so I didn’t have to take him to the airport, only to a parking lot, where he was immediately awash in a great wave of parents, since he’s one of the organizers, so I didn’t even get to properly say goodbye, though we had a pretty good night last night.

And I’ve been consciously avoiding thinking about this, because it’s going to be for two full weeks and that’s really nothing but it’s the longest we’ve gone, I think, since we met, without physically seeing each other. He’s like an appliance; I just walk into the house and expect to see him there.

When I walked into the house, I didn’t see him there, because he wasn’t, and it was like someone had taken the refrigerator and the dishwasher, and I suddenly felt just like Rudolph screaming “He’s Gone! He’s Gone!” after Yukon Cornelius went over the cliff with the Abominable Snowman.

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