When Scumbag got here three short weeks ago it was 97 degrees and sunny. Over the past three weeks we've had the weather change drastically. Last few days pouring rain, wind, and cold. It feels like November already.
This is my least favorite time of year. Soon my home will be empty of other people. Scumbag leaving in two days, and Jeckyll already starting the cleaning and sorting process to get ready to pack up and go himself. He's signing a six month lease on an apartment less than a mile away from here.
Some days I'm OK. I know he has to go for any changes to happen. Some days I'm numb. Some days I cry all day at the weirdest times.
Last night my tears were brought on by thinking that the last time we made love might be the last time we ever make love. It was when I came back from Seattle and he had decided to stay. We then spent several days celebrating our anniversaries. Now only seven weeks later the story has changed again. Our story seems to change daily where we get along fine and things seem normal, then I freak out because I'm trying too hard to block my emotions, so they spill out in weird ways.
Obviously I have my own work to do in this situation. Learn to be OK with being alone. Learn to love myself so I don't need others to do it for me.
The holidays will be sticky this year. I will be challenged with my new job, but I'll be rambling around this old house alone at night. I'll need to reach out to my friends. Some are already reaching out to me, thankfully. I need to have plans, so that I don't isolate myself into non-existence. An easy thing for me to do.
It's going to be a long hard winter. I'm trying to look forward to what I'll learn, but I'm already tired.