I pulled the last of my �stuff� out of Virginia this weekend. The final truck, the final box, the final tschotske. And happily left Mr. Lucky behind forever. Ok, I still have to pick up my car (he graciously allowed me to use the truck another couple weeks to haul stuff from Lowe�s and Home Depot) but it�s a small matter. I think we were both happy to close out this phase of our lives and remain on reasonably friendly terms.
But during the drive back to New Jersey, I could not help but start thinking again � even though I carefully kept the radio on the happiest, friendliest music I could find.
Relationships end. They end in explanations, conversations, recriminations.
They should never end with threats. Or anger. Or, most especially, in Silence.
Around me is everything that used to describe us. A snippet of song, a passage of nighttime reading, the full moon, news of a wildfire rushing down the canyon to the sea. Every day I fight the tears, and, exhausted at last, they stop until the next time my heart gets too full to hold them.
But I cannot fight the dreams. He still comes to me�..or, perhaps�.I go to him.
No, I can�t stop the dreams. Can he?
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