He is away

He is gone this week, away on business. He is sick this week, a fever, a cough, an upset stomach and he is away. I meant to have a very somber, maybe tear-filled, possibly difficult talk with him on Sunday. But, it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the timing, perhaps it was the fact that he is consoling his best friend, our mutual friend, who had just broken up with his girlfriend. I don’t know, but the words would not come, the moment didn’t lend to the discussion I felt we needed to have. Now he is sick, he is in some hotel in California feeling horrible, telling me that he has a hard time receiving, but from me it seems so much easier. We’ve been conversing over e-mail. I love his beautiful off the cuff prose and I hate that he is sick. I feel tortured in this purgatory of love, some form of love and this eminent looming separation. The close and tender care is still there, although, an end seems inevitable.