Driving east

Driving east along the Trans-Canada, the St. Lawrence river shines silver-blue surrounded by fields of green and the blue high hills in the distance. The hum of tires, rush of wind, and our playlist fill the space in the car. It feels as though I am standing still and the earth, roads and miles move beneath me, slowly pulling the scenery past me.

I am afraid to hope - and I am afraid to give up hope. There is a hole in me and I am set adrift..

I am putting physical distance between us at a time when I want to rush to you. I could drive until I fall off the edge of the earth and it wouldn't feel any further than our emotional distance. Maybe you need the physical distance - maybe I need it. Maybe it is better this way - I don't know.

Three provinces, a great lake, rivers, and countless miles - half a country between us and I fear that I couldn't feel further from you than if I was standing beside you.. The difference is that if I was standing beside you, there is a chance that the distances would slowly vanish and that this canyon between us could be crossed.

I know what I want. I want to take you home. I want to sit on the couch, hold your hand, look into your eyes, see your face - and talk. I want to feel the distance vanish and to know the closeness that we once felt. I want to know that you have missed me as much as I have missed you. I want you to want us to work again. I want to heal. But what I want doesn't really matter.

I will spend they dying days of summer in a beautiful, peaceful place. I will walk on wet sand, bending to dig with my bare hands and pluck the gift of clams from the sand. I will lay on white sandy beaches and look out into the sparkling blue ocean. The sun and wind will turn my skin red and the sand will harden my hands and feet. I will spend a few days in this paradise alone - but you will be in my thoughts. What happens when I see you next - the where and when of how that happens, and whatever follows beyond that - will be up to you.

Me.