Tomorrow morning I take Logan to the airport and we will not see one another for about six months. He will fly home to Brazil.
Saying goodbye for this long has made me neglect many things. I’ve been coveting our time together, because I need to store up memories for the long separation. Books go unread, blog posts go un-posted, photographs unedited. Film sits at the photography shop, developed and all set in nice little rows for me to scan, but even the effort of going and getting that, rather than spending time with my person, feels weird. I will get it Thursday when Logan is safely home.
He is going home partially because there are no real immigration routes for him here in America (which is ridiculous for many reasons), and partially because it has been seven years away from home and it is simply time. Time to be around family, friends, his brother, to be a Brazilian again and forget some English, to hear parrots being rude out on the front porch and loathe the heat and listen to cicadas at night and go to fishing holes where coatis gather.
I will be here, working and saving money, missing him and remembering what it is to be alone, looking for the perfect flight to go see him. Living with somebody naturally blends and bleeds edges of yourself with that person, and I am excited to find out my own boundaries, habits, and other things for a little bit. To go by myself and read a book with a glass of wine, do my nighttime wanderings which I haven’t done, pick up too many library books and spend time taking photographs of things that aren’t him. It’s going to be very hard.