today i

sent him off at the airport, where i also lost my camera.

went home feeling heavy and dull with a once familiar but now unaccustomed moodiness that sank slowly through my cloud fabric self and out as salty, angry rain

couldn't tell if i were sad because of the camera or him (both, i suppose)

came home after supper and saw the phone

realized how much i wanted to call the ocean traverser

remembered what it felt like to miss someone so helplessly, frustratingly

relived the dread of leave takings

knew that i am re in love

know that life won't wait while i pine

finish as much packing as i can

get ready to move along

yes, i suppose i was wrong. 6 years is not water under the bridge, and i have not outgrown him.