I'm leaving in one week. I am starting to feel excited, but there is a piece of me that is absent. I am wanting.
I know that I shall get on that plane, and I will look forward - I'll have to be. I won't know who or what is ahead of me; won't know what to expect. I think that's a little exhilarating. I'm not even sure I've thought about anything that way before. How wonderful.
But right now, there is something without an ending. I am waiting, to hear something about or from John. I don't know if I will get it; I think the universe wants me to be patient. I cannot pretend I'm not worried - I don't know if he got the letter, or if he did, how it made him feel - I'm not even sure he is where he's meant to be. I saw an advert for the exact job he moved away for - the same posting, the same place. What's going on? Is he leaving? I don't know these things, and I can't ask him right now because I have to give him space. Because if I break the silence, I break the promise. God, if he is leaving the state to follow that horrid rotten apple... I'd prefer just about any reality to that one.
I'm scared for very different reasons than I was last week. I am frightened and running out of time to figure out why, or how to fix it. If this is a dream sequence, then I am stuck inside a room lined with closed doors, and I am frantically trying to find the right one to open, the one that will lead me out of this place. If I open a door, and I don't like what I see... Oh God.