This will be my last post as a Seattle resident.

How weird is that?

The past two weeks have been tough. During times of stress, anxiety, sadness, fear, and dislocation with reality, I’ve been trying to keep my eye on the prize, i.e. sleeping next to GTB every night. There’s more to this move than that, of course, but that one image is what has brought me the most solace lately.

While the excitement of starting a new life in Portland is tempered with my feelings of mourning the one I’m leaving behind in Seattle, it’s all a little muddled by the frenzy of packing, changing my address with the creditors, finishing up projects at work, making sure all my friends have my new contact info, and worrying about whether or not we’ll be able to find a parking spot in front of my building for the U-Haul truck. I’m honestly not sure I’m going to feel any of it very accutely until I’m unpacked and actually sleeping next to GTB.

That said, moments of overemotionality hit me at strange moments. This morning at the gym, the two TVs were playing equal parts coverage of Jill Caroll being released by her captors and the McCloy kid being released from the hospital. There I was on the elliptical trainer, crying my eyes out. Fortunately, tears are easily mistaken for sweat.

And then at work, the advertising coordinator came in to say hi and ask how I was doing. He’s the only male in the department and what do I do to him? I get all teary and tight-throated and tell him I’m fine, but a little emotional. *Insert cracking voice here.* Poor kid.

Now, I’m home, and I’ve reached my packing limit for the evening. I found one last PBR in my fridge and I’m nursing that while trying to decide if a leg-shaving bath would calm me down, or just give me more time to really reflect on what a big deal this is, which I don’t feel capable of handling when my apartment is filled boxes.

GTB gets here in about an hour and a half. Fortunately, I had a lucid moment an hour or so ago and stopped myself from packing the condoms. For the moment at least, if I can keep myself in the moment, that is, I’m keeping my eye on that prize: the thought of sleeping next to him soon. I won’t allow myself to think about the fact that tomorrow night will be the last time I sleep next to him in this bed, in this apartment.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 30th, 2006 at 8:52 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.