Relative Something

Last night I attended a holiday gathering of family and friends who have known Cyndie for most of her life, and I found myself, naturally, trying to provide news on the adventure of our separation and her new job in Boston. I desire to present things in a positive light, but I fear some of my loneliness sneaks out to the astute observer. I received one surprised reaction that I was still here, with her living in Boston. Obviously, I wonder about the same thing.

It is interesting to hear myself tell our story over and over in the course of an evening. I begin to notice that not talking about it can be a way to shield myself from some of the reality of this experience. Talking about it brings more of my feelings closer to the surface; even the ones that are mostly subconscious.

Still, it seems like I am talking about it every day with someone. Maybe just not as often as at a party.

Today is the big day I have been waiting for since I got back from Boston at Thanksgiving, as I will be picking up Cyndie at the airport tonight for her holiday visit. It’s time to tidy up some things around this bachelor pad and make the place look a bit more civilized again. You know, put the unnecessary pillows back on the bed …stuff like that.

And I bet you can tell, …I’ll be happy to do it.