Memories, Like the Corners of My Mind
I wasn’t sure where to go on the whole recap of the San Diego trip. Part of me wanted to post some big drawn out soliloquy, breathlessly recounting every romantic detail. But I thought about it and that sounds pretty boring, even to me. Once you’ve read one soliloquy, you’ve read them all.
Then I thought I could do some bullets but, my god, bullets about 4 days? There’s just too much to say. Besides, I feel sort of numb. I feel like I can’t string sentences together that don’t sound like: I miss R. Blah blah blah ocean. R. Blah blah blah beach. Blah blah blah. Really miss R.
I’m so numb that when I’m driving I stare off into space and I snap back to reality for fear of getting into an accident. If I did crash into something, I probably wouldn’t even know how it happened.
I can’t really fully grasp how much I miss R because I don’t even want to take my mind to that place. It’s as if I’m picking at a scab and when it starts to hurt I force myself to think of something else. It seems like such a simple thing, to be together, yet it’s so unattainable right now. I just want to scream and cry but I know it won’t do any good.
It’s why I had to leave the hotel room shortly after R left for the base on Monday morning. It was around 4am and I hugged him, kissed him on the cheek and said bye. I refused to cry in front of him. I have been down that road and it’s not fair to him.
I got back in the bed and I wanted to sleep, but I knew I wouldn’t. I thought I should try to enjoy the pretty room the last few hours that I had it, leisurely getting ready after making some coffee with the cool little machine, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be there anymore.
I texted R, said I couldn’t sleep and he replied I should get a jump on traffic if I wasn’t overly tired. So I got ready and gathered my things. I was scared to lose it in that room for fear I’d never leave it.
And that shit was expensive.
And had no internet access. Well, internet access but in the lobby and 6.95 per 15 minutes! Still bitter.
I had packed nearly everything the night before when R was packing up his things. I noticed that he had taken all of his toiletries off the bathroom counter and I wanted mine gone, too.
R had already taken my bags to my car the night before so I wouldn’t have to carry them. As I was trudging up the sidewalk that morning, I noticed that he had moved my car closer and I smiled. R is forever taking care of me. Maybe sometimes I think he doesn’t, but he does. He always does.
The first night I was there, Friday night, he got back from the base and we laid in bed for what seemed like hours. We didn’t really say that much. I laid on his chest and he stroked my hair, over and over. I felt so loved. He sniffed my hair and said how good it smelled.
I thought to myself that no matter what happens, the distance or whatever crazy thoughts I get in my head, and there are plenty: remember this moment.
After a while, R had mentioned he had a toothache so I jumped up to go to the lobby to get him some Advil & Tylenol (a concoction that works. Try it: 2 Advil/2 Tylenol). He kept saying he didn’t want me to get it, and I thought he was just being brave when he really should try and feel better. He finally said, “I want you here with me.”
That’s a lot for R to say. It’s funny the times that I think he’s not emotional enough, not demonstrative enough but when he says something, he really means it. I got my butt back in that bed and took up residence once again by his side.
I’ll be back later with some fluff of the trip. Not ready to process the fluff yet.