Agnostic Death

I'm home. Well...the place that serves as home for a little while longer. I traveled all day yesterday to come home and hit a brick wall of transitional anxiety. Everything I have been dreading will come to pass within the next three weeks. We're still waiting on a firm date for George to leave...typical military style. My house is set for closing the second week of December. At that point I am essentially homeless. I will go my way, and he will go his.

I find myself editing my thoughts. Much like Chris talked about in one of her posts the other day. At times, when real life discovers the blog it seems to almost encroach on the blog. I find that I edit what I write and who I write about, knowing who is reading. I edit my thoughts when I think past Christmas. In all reality I try not to think past Christmas as much as possible. It simply hurts too much. I edit what I say, knowing that words are wielded like swords and can cut even when used in defense. I edit my hopes, knowing that if hopes were wings turtles would fly.

In time all things fade. Enough has faded in my life for that truth to be real. I simply don't want this to fade. I don't want it to be over. I don't want him to be gone. I don't want to be gone. In time that will fade too. For now, it makes a lump in my throat that won't go away.

Last night we cuddled for hours. Last night we talked about random subjects that crept into our minds. Last night we held hands, and locked legs, and we just were. By this morning the feeling of his body against mine was just a memory. The recollection of his fingers wound in mine just a fading recollection. It is against this fading that I fight. This is all I will have left of him soon and I don't want it to go away. Yet, I can't even manage to keep it for a matter of hours. How am I supposed to hold on to that for years.

He asked me last night what I wanted for Christmas. All I want for Christmas is him. I want him to be there. I want a hug on demand. I want to be able to see him three times a week like I have grown to need. I want every Sunday night to be spent curled up on the couch watching tv together talking about whatever comes up. I want now...to last.

We have had the discussion about what comes next. What happens after we go. There will be no long distance relationship. There will be no promises that cannot be kept. There will be no hope, no dream, no wish. It will be like an agnostic death. Simply over. No explanation. No place beyond. No "and then". I don't know how I feel about that. Part of me is grateful that there isn't any false hope. But part of me wishes I could be left with something to hold on to when the days are like today. Something beyond nothing.

Most days I do ok. Most days I wake up and go about my life one step at a time. Most days I can get through the day minute by minute, task by task. Most days I can keep myself busy enough that I don't have to think about tomorrow. Today was not one of those days.