The end. I’m already looking at this trip as the period on the much-too-long run-on sentence. I want to end it while I can still control the ending. If it doesn’t end here, with a romantic dinner and a sweet kiss goodbye at the airport, it will end in furious tears six months from now in a phone call across the miles of country that involves “I met someone” and “I really like you but…” And I can’t handle that. I don’t want to handle that. I don’t want to build myself up for the inevitable epic fall. It’s gone much too far already.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Don't give away the end, the one thing that stays mine
I bought my ticket to Seattle. I leave January 28th and fly back on the 31st. It’s short and it had better be sweet. I’ve run over every possible scenario in my head, including one that involves the LDC chasing after me in the airport, begging me not to end it this way. The entire weekend will probably be much less dramatic than that but I can’t help but devise these ridiculous situations. Nothing about our relationship has been conventional so why should the end be?