For the past several months I have been embroiled in a near-constant conversation with myself. At some times it is more quiet than others, intermittent whispering rather than the cacophony I awoke to this morning. The conversation can be stripped down to this:
Am I leaving?
Yes I'm leaving.
Why am I leaving?
Because it's time.
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Where are you going?
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Best wishes to you in your move!
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I'll be missing you in passing (leaving on the 30th), but am so excited to see you settling in here after I'm back on the 13th. Take good care, everything will be so much better soon, and if I could send a salve to make this horrible time better, I would. xo
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