Pale liquid gold paints the evening sky, the winter sun setting for another day. The clear, teal-tinged blue of the sky behind it reminds me of the color my tears would be if I drew them. I’m not ready to go. I don’t think I ever could be, not truly. I fight back tears, hiding in the bathroom when I finally lose the battle and sadness overtakes me. A piece of my heart resides here, held in the careful hands of one I love, the one I am bound to in ways that escape definition or description.
And I am leaving that piece behind once more, long, lonely months stretching out before me. It isn’t forever. That has been my mantra before, and I turn to it once again, seeking whatever comfort it has to give me. A press of a button, the swipe-tap of a finger and I can see him, hear him. Yet the fact remains that my arms are empty, my heart hurts and I must once more fight through the pain of good-bye before I can reach the bliss of hello.
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