Herself speaks.
Yesterday, Cherished Friend sent me an email about his going to look at cars. (He's been contemplating trading in his vehicle for a different vehicle for some time now.) And today, before I'd had an opportunity to respond fully to his email, he let me know that he'd bit the bullet and made the change.
On the one hand, I'm very happy for him: his choice for different vehicle is an excellent one, and it will serve him very well in Oceanside. As always, he carefully thought out the permutations and possibilities, and then executed a purposeful plan. Well done, Cherished Friend.
On the other hand, I'm having a hard time with the fact that not only was I not fully available to give my (likely useless) two cents on the vehicle issue by email, but I was not able to go with him to look at vehicles, to contemplate the options, to be present in some form or another. I am so preoccupied with All The Things here, and so far away, that as a result I am missing out on parts of his life.
This makes me quite sad.
I didn't even get to say goodbye to his former vehicle, which seems absolutely ridiculous to say, but it took us on various adventures and mundane errands and whatnot, and I miss those times. With each change in his life -- change of residence, change of vehicle --I feel as though he is somehow farther and farther away. The metaphorical distance pains me somehow even more than the actual physical distance.
I know that someday, travel will again be possible, and I can go say 'hello' in person in Oceanside. It seems a million miles away right now, though.
Alas.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment