On Saying Goodbye
I have always attested that I love autumn. I talk about the way I love the smell of rotting, I bring the girls to pick out really pretty, colorful leaves so we can make a collage, I take walks almost every evening through the bike path near my house that cuts through the woods.
It's strange to think I almost gave it away. That is what love does- makes you believe that what you want is what they want. And in a sense, yes, I wanted to get away, but leaving autumn is something I've been thinking a lot about lately.
Jesse moved to Bradenton, FL (Tampa Bay area) about a month ago, and I supported him without ever voicing my concerns, because I am aware of his fickle nature, his obstinate mind, and his general unhappiness with life. I just wanted him to be happy, and realized that if he was happier, maybe he'd appreciate me more, too. Well, luckily for me, he has realized on his own that he isn't happy there without me, he wishes he had never gone, and feels genuinely terrible for ever leaving. He's coming home on Tuesday.
So, I don't have to say farewell to the autumn season just yet. It is strange how once you decide that you are ready to leave a place, that place becomes so much more meaningful to you. It dawned on me, more than just a passing thought, that I wasn't going to see many of my friends very often. It also occurred to me, more in-depth, that I wouldnt enjoy the renewing feeling of fall. I wouldn't be around to watch Conor say his first real sentence, and I wouldn't be able to go to Friendly's with Victoria and Jesse.
Part of me is extremely relieved that Jesse has chosen to come home. I think, at some point, I will be ready to move away, start a new life; somewhere warmer. But for now, I just don't think I'm certain I could do without the nostalgic scent of decaying foliage that crunches underfoot, while I realize that I am entirely in-the-moment and thankful I am alive.
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