Out of Gas

I'm spent. Exhausted. Tired not just on a physical level, but on an emotional one as well. Like a sponge that's been squeezed of every last drop of water, then tossed in a kiln for good measure. There's just plain nothing left in the tank. And yet so many more miles to go.

This latest trip was...not what I'd hoped. I wanted a safe haven in which to hide, recharge, be at peace, but that's not what I found at all. I found more conflict, more turmoil, and more negativity. Part of it is my own stupid pre-formed expectations, this childish vision I had of "this will make everything all better." I keep running to you because that means I'm running away from reality. From the real world. At some point, however, reality was going to catch up and that's what happened this week.

We fought. Over and over and over again, we fought. Over important things and stupid things and everything in between. Inevitable, I suppose. You can't share so many emotions so deeply and not expect the bad ones to come out, too. Still, all experiences have value, even the negative ones. I learned a lot this week, about you, about me, and about us. Some of it was good, some of it was not. Two items are of particular interest to me.

The first is that this morning I woke up after several straight days of conflict with you and I was genuinely sorry that I would be leaving. We won't work on the garden together tonight. I won't see egg dog do the happy dance. I won't be able to sneak glances at your hand, hoping to catch a glimpse of your ring of protection. All of this, that has become so normal to me, so How It Is will once again be gone. You were right, you know. I already find myself taking far too much for granted.

The second thing that interested me was this very day. I am upset for a variety of reasons, including something you said. You know this, we discussed it. However, as soon as a problem came up at your job, I was quite content to shove all of that which had been so important mere moments before to the side to focus on the task at hand and give you the best counsel that I could. Not because it let me avoid my own issues--I'm extremely good at avoiding things--but because helping you was far more important. And because I'm your partner, and that's what partners do.

So. I have much to ponder as I head for that goddamn airport once again. I don't want to leave. I really, really don't.