The date

Well, we have a date. Well approximately, you know how that is. But come February I will once again be by myself in my teeny house. Yesterday, I asked him not to go. I know you'll be shocked at his answer, but it was that he has to. I'm not 3 years old. I know he has to go, but I had to say it. My fear is building and it seems like the only thing I can say that won't diminish me to a pile of tears, but still let him know that I don't know how I'm going to live without him.

It makes me sick to my stomach every time I think of the "goodbye" moment. And for those of who think I could just not think about it, I can't. It's going to happen. It isn't a maybe anymore, it's real and I have no idea how I'm going to get through it. And that, above all, scares the crap out of me.


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