After much thought and vacillation over the weekend (and more than a few freaked out moments), I decided to continue with my plans to move to St Paul. I have a place to live, my mom, uncle and aunt are an hour’s drive away, and I’ll just have to find a job. How hard can it be? After all, our government keeps telling us things are getting better. One of these days, they have to be right, yes?
Our apartment is an obstacle course. My boxes are stacked everywhere there is room, and we have to be careful when wandering in the middle of the night. Both of us have stubbed toes when our attention wandered.
JJ refuses to talk about it anymore. It’s almost as if he’s already preparing for my absence. Instead of curling close to me at night, he stays on his side of the bed. Always free before with signs of physical affection, now he doesn’t touch me much.
It hurts, but I understand. I don’t ask him about it and I give him space, but man, if anyone needed a lot of hugs right now, it’s me. He has a job and our place and he’s remaining in familiar surroundings. I’m heading to a place I don’t know, to a job that doesn’t exist, to an apartment I’ve not set foot in, and I’m doing it without JJ.
There are times when it feels like my heart is breaking.
This weekend, Lucy is throwing me a goodbye party. I leave for MN next Monday. Jesus! Only a week to go.