He's asleep now in the Peter's bed. The gray jersey sheets wrapped around his 135 lb body like an enormous T-shirt. He's piled 5 pillows around his head and snoozing soundly. But in a few short hours, I'll deposit him at the airport and off to Canada he shall go. The future return of TC – unknown, my future fate – unknown.
About Saturday? I'll post on that later. Suffice to say he re-appeared and we made up. But I'm sad right now, each minute, each second that goes by could be the last with TC. Zero hour is approaching.
Not being too sappy. I realized yesterday, as we had lunch with some friends at Rosa Mexicano and I oogled the wait staff (hey – I ain't that damn sad, I even got busted twice!), that TC has managed to extract a wide range of emotions from me. I've never felt more loved by anyone and on the opposite end I've had moments where I couldn't possibly be any angrier with anyone. The only other person who has managed to push all of my buttons has been my children.
Pushing buttons. Perhaps that what we need in our relationships. Someone to challenge all of our emotions. Reminding you that you're alive. Keeping the game fresh.
But for now I'm sad. The end is near. Or is it?