I have no family here.  I have only the people who I’ve allowed into my life, and those who have granted me access to theirs.  I’ve been told time and time again that this is very rarely a city of permanence.  I always saw that statement through my own journey, my own chapter, my own leaving timeline.  I’ve created this life for myself here that includes what I refer to as my urban family.  These are the people who know me the best, those that care, love, make me laugh, listen to my neurosis, eat my baked goods.  I lost a valuable member of my family today.  The first of the leaving kind.  I guess I just never thought that I would be left; that I would be the one leaving first.

I completely support his decision to leave, it’s a decision that makes sense for him and in a time in his life that the fates aligned and said, here’s your window, climb through.  While I support him and lift him up, giving him consolation in his fears on what life might include, I haven’t given much emotional thought to how this would play out in my own life.  I honestly didn’t want to address it.

My depth of sadness also strikes me because of how short a time we’ve known each other.  He came into my life in a time when I needed him and didn’t even know it.  I was going through a separation of another kind at the time and I needed a friend.  He seamlessly entered my life.  We swiftly became close and I realized what I gem I’d come to find; to be blessed with.  So similar in temperament and mindset, I was surprised at how quickly we became so close.

I know, and espouse, that everything is for a season and very few things run the course of a lifetime — despite that, that ideal doesn’t offer any consolation in my sadness.  I spent the weekend with my dear friend and felt completely fine.  I honestly didn’t feel like anything had changed.  Sure, he was leaving, but for whatever reason, his departure didn’t feel imminent. Until today.

The day wore on and as I sat there on the couch, I realized that I couldn’t simply wait around any longer for the day to end.  To say good-bye.  So I gathered my things and quietly said, “it’s time for me to go”.  With tears that I thought may not come because I was trying to remain strong, I said good-bye to a man who is my best friend.  He’s my rock, he’s my safety, he’s my confidant.  He gets me, listens to me, cares for me.  He’s the best travel partner a girl could hope for, AND he’s the best wing-man I’ve ever had.  The flood gates opened and I spent the entire commute home fighting, and failing, to hold back tears.  Even now in the comfort of my home, I’ve become a sloppy mess.  My heart hurts.

I walked down my street towards the place where I rest my head.  Strangely enough, this city feels less like home to me now.  If home is where the heart is, then my part of my home just left for San Diego.

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