I had a plan...

I was going to be good today. I had a plan. It involved being calm and listening to podcasts, and getting through the day just fine. I wasn't going to dwell on Americo going home, I was going to focus on the fact we're finally getting our shit together and next year we'll make the visa thing happen.

I was going to put together a checklist of things I had to do to start pulling together all the visa paper work (again), hook up the printer, and start doing instead of sitting around sobbing.

I wasn't going to dive into a bucket of donuts and a giant bowl of pasta.

I wasn't going to throw up all over myself.

Obviously, this plan was pretty unrealistic.

Airport, totally fine. Got moved to a direct flight, kept his economy plus seat even though he changed flights, we did the quick goodbye to avoid the inelegant airport hysterics, I paid my $20 for 30 minutes of parking (I wish I was joking) and got on the road.

Aisha Tyler's podcast is a delight. Nathan Fillian and Wayne Brady charming and delightful guests. I had a fabulous cheesecake in Goulburn and all was well. A tiny tear in the airport, a catch in the throat when he called before boarding, no problems. I'm a calm, put together, type a control freak, I can just keep moving and get home.

And then, what I can do is go to the supermarket, burst into tears while trying to pick a leek, and then get home and vomit all over myself because I cried til I couldn't breathe, which for me leads to hurling.

So, plan fail. Spectacular fail. Chocolate mousse cheesecake vomit fail.

Btw, chocolate mousse cheesecake is not something you want to vomit all over yourself. It doesn't taste good coming up. It's sticky. And no grown up should ever have to clean vomit out of their hair unless they're absolutely wasted after too many mojitos.

I don't really know what to do next. Go have a shower and wash the vomit out of my hair, I suppose. Make pasta, eat donuts, get my shit together and start planning. Even the shower seems pretty impossible right now. Food total idiocy. Getting my shit together is probably the most hysterical concept of all.

I don't remember how to plan days that don't involve coming home to him. I don't want to remember.

I just wish this shit wasn't so fucking hard. Love shouldn't have to involve leaving someone you love at an airport. It just shouldn't.

Leaving on a jet plane

It is not at all surprising that I'm not feeling great this week. Or last week. My man leaves this week to go back to San Francisco, after 9 weeks with me. It's sad, and I know I have the 'right' to be sad, because this is one of those times where sad is 'normal'.

My problem though, is not the normal level of sad that other people feel when their partner goes back overseas for an indeterminate amount of time, it's the potential for sad so bad it knocks me on my ass for 3 weeks and prevents me functioning like a human.

The last two times we did this, after I left San Francisco, and the last time he left here a year ago, it came after two weeks of solid depression to the point I was nearly unable to function. The two weeks before I left San Francisco I was almost totally incapable of getting out of bed.

I'm terrified of that happening again. Terrified of being unable to get out of bed, unable to eat, unable to work, unable to think of anything other than how wrong it feels to not be in the same country as my guy.

I think about all the things I'll get back to doing when he's gone, to try and make myself feel better. I'll start working out again, not because he prevents me doing that, but because I'd rather be with him for the time he's here, than spend 75 minutes o a treadmill. I'll start eating better again, not because he stops me eating well (the exact opposite in fact) but because I like to not think about portion size and skipping dessert when he's here. I like trying new food with him, and I don't care that it's making my cholesterol sky rocket. I'll be able to save money faster just because I'm only feeding one, which obviously halves the grocery budget.

These are ridiculous thoughts, because of course they don't even come close to making it ok that I sleep better when he's here. And I'm less afraid of life, because I don't have to face it alone when he's here.

I am terrified this time, more than the other times, of having to go back to living on my own again.

All the other times he's left, or I've left, I've come home to someone. I had a housemate to distract me from the terrifying aloneness that I feel when he's on the other side of the ocean, and this time I don't have that.

Thursday is getting closer by the day, and him leaving is awful and heartbreaking, and not the worst of what I'm feeling as the time gets closer. The thing that really has me in a tizzy is coming home to my empty apartment, my empty bed, empty fridge, empty closet, and no distractions to get me through the 15 hour flight until he's on Skype.

I fear what that 15 hours is going to do to my sanity and the shreds of emotional control I've built up over the last year.

Have I built up my sense of self and internal control enough to survive Thursday's heartbreak?

Guess we'll find out.

May the road rise up to meet you

This amazing kid I know died today.

I didn't know him that well, didn't know what he liked for breakfast, or how he had his coffee, but he was my little brothers best friend since the age of, maybe 13, and so this kid was a presence in my life for the last 10 years.

And he was an amazing kid. He was smart, passionate, dedicated and kind. He was the kind of kid where, when you met him, you just knew he was destined to change the world. He was just that kind of amazing. He would laugh, and the world just seemed brighter, because he was so bright.

As they say, those that burn the brightest, burn the fastest, and so it was for Jerome.

The story of his final months is a sad one. You see, he just got married 3 weeks ago. He's been living with his girl for years, and they're incredibly committed to each other, but they only just got married 3 weeks ago. And the wedding was beautiful, his bride was stunning, he was happy, though he looked incredibly gaunt and had no energy and needed to sit down a lot.

Today, and yesterday, before he passed away, the cancer had effected his memory and he didn't remember his marriage. He remembered things from years ago, but not his marriage or his bride.

I can't even imagine her heartbreak. Not just losing her husband and partner mere weeks after their wedding, but losing his emotionally due to his memory before losing him to death. The emotional toll of that moment where he didn't remember her must have been so shattering. To lose someone so bright and vibrant in itself, without everything else surrounding it, would be hard but to lose him like this...it breaks my heart to think of her hurt, and my brothers hurt, and his families hurt, and all his friends who loved him like family.

We all deserve a chance to live a beautiful life full of love, and Jerome fit more love in his short life that many would in 80 or 90 years.

Hug someone you love today. Tell them you love them. Live life in a way that not just makes sure that people remember you, but they remember you with love, and talk about your passion and kindness, and how you changed their life.

May you shine as brightly in whatever comes next as you did in life, Jerome, you lit up every room you walked into.