Later this afternoon, my SO and I will be bidding one another

adieu,

adios,

see you later ‘gator,

until we meet again,

auld lang syne (that fits, maybe),

and

see you later, sweetie

as he heads back to Alaska for a while. I wish I could go with him. I am missing my family – mightily.

We just returned from a walk up to our downtown Longs Drugstore where we purchased a new smoke alarm to replace the one we (meaning the SO) broke last night in our (his) frantic efforts to make it shut up its very loud shrieking which was making us (the SO’s SO, me) go further into madness of the crazy variety.

I am cooking up what seems to be my traditional meal, my-SO-is/has-leaving/left-and-the-Attic-is/will-be-lonelier-than-hell, pot of spicy-red-beans-ham-onions soup. This is what I will eat for several days following his departure. Comfort food in my search of comfort.

Don’t get me wrong. I am still the woman who craves time to myself. I remain perfectly capable of navigating the world alone, even when I don’t feel like I am up to the task. But I must also accept that I can no longer pretend or even kid myself that I am as happy alone as I am with the SO. Uh-oh. What does that mean? I guess we have the best of both worlds (the alone, creative world and the together, partnership world) with his regular travel to and from Alaska.

Still, this particular trip – I really wish that I could go too.

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