I think I might be coming to the full realization that this is in fact happening, and she's not coming back. Reality has started to infiltrate my dreams, which in this case I think makes them nightmares. At least for the last few days the little bit of sleep I could get was an escape.
I felt almost decent last night. I read few an hour or so before going to sleep, and laid down with a sort of general sadness, instead of the heart-wrenching pain I had been experiencing. This morning, I woke up with a weight on my chest, pressing. I haven't been able to eat since yesterday afternoon, and that was only a handful of Combos.
This week we have to handle some practical issues; car insurance and cell phones split up, figuring out what she's taking with her. Then I have to figure out what to do.
I think I'm going to move out, and sublease the apartment. My landlord suggested that, and said he's had a lot of success doing that in the past. We'll see. I've got a lot of stuff, and at least right now, I don't really want any of it. I'll store some stuff in various basements, and some in my office. Oh yeah. My office.
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009, was a great day, up until around 5pm. Around 4pm, I was at Longworth Hall, where a friend of mine was setting me up with an extra office in the space he has that he didn't need. My very own office, at Longworth Hall, legitimizing what I do. In no time, I thought, I'll be making enough from my freelance work to actually say it's what I do. Then my phone rang. Nancy's ringtone. As it was ringing, my friend, recognizing the ringtone, asked me how she was. "She's good," I said as I answered the phone. Little did I know.
"When are you coming home?" she asked, sounding like something was wrong.
"From the sound of things, right now," I said, concerned.
She began to cry. "I have some terrible news, and I want to tell you in person."
"I'll be right there."
The 20 minute drive home seemed to take forever. I kept thinking someone died, or she lost her job, but either way, I knew we would get through it... together.
I got home, and she was standing in the kitchen. I asked her was what wrong. She walked up to me, reached out and said, "I love you." No news from anyone you care about starting with "I love you" has ever been good. The next couple of hours aren't very clear to me, but it doesn't really matter.
So, here I am. I'm not really sure where that is, and I definitely don't know where to go. All I know is where I was is where I wanted to be, but you can't go back. It's not there anymore. Memories can seem so real, but it's the past, and it's gone. To quote Townes Van Zandt:
Time, she's a fast, old train,
She's here and she's gone,
And won't come again.
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