01 02 00

wisconsin day three

I woke before the wake up call.

I couldn't sleep anymore. I tried. I snuggled up beside Dave, who snored on, but I couldn't get my eyes to close again. I finally gave up, put in my contacts and got dressed. Cartoons were on, and I watched a few of them. Dave dressed sometime in the middle of this.

A few silent minutes were spent packing our cars, and we stood facing each other one last time. I hugged him and gave him a quick kiss. "I love you," I said. "Drive safe."

"Yeah," he said. "You too." We awkwardly shuffled out to our cars. "So, um, you want to get breakfast or something?"

"No," I replied. "I want to get on the road so I don't have to drive in the dark." A half-truth, really, but I couldn't voice my real reason.

"Ok," he said, nodding. "Take care. I love you."

And I got in my car and drove away without looking back.

What was my real reason for not wanting breakfast? I can't drive when I'm crying. My contacts get all blurry and I can't see a thing. I was still a bit muzzy from waking up and my brain hadn't fully engaged. It hadn't hit me yet that we were saying goodbye.

Effectively I had turned off my emotions. As the sign for the hotel got smaller in my rearview mirror (and I got further from Dave), one lone tear slipped down my cheek. I didn't think about it. I tapped my finger in time to the radio. I was numb.

I was numb for my entire trip home. I thought about everything but Dave. When I was halfway across Indiana I had plenty to occupy my mind, though. A brisk, gusty wind had blown up and I needed all my concentration to stay in my lane. My emotions remained numb.

My mind was still numb when I pulled into my parking lot. It was numb when I unpacked my car. It was numb when I called my parents to tell them I'd arrived safe and sound. It was numb when I sat on the couch for a bite to eat.

But now, writing about the weekend, the numbness is gone. After writing "And I got in my car and drove away without looking back" I took my hands off the keyboard and sobbed. I sobbed so hard that I started another coughing fit.

I'm not numb anymore. I'm sure Dave was a little confused by my abrupt departure. But I couldn't explain it to him there or I would have started crying and defeated my purpose for leaving so suddenly in the first place.

Please forgive me, Dave.

It was so wonderful to see him again I can't even describe it. But as always it was too short. It's so hard. We've had too many good-byes.

I love you, Dave. Please, always remember that.

You know what?

I left before we got the wake up call.

Still Life in Words