And then there were none
Christi has moved out. the walls are basically bare. she left one of her grandmother's paintings, perhaps by accident. she also took the imac, which is hers, but i can't see what use she might have for it, not that it matters, as it does belong to her. she left behind a little terra cotta horse that her grandmother gave her, a replica of the ones in those imperial tombs. her grandmother was one of the first american tourists allowed into china.
She said she left some stuff behind. It was too much for just one day and just one pickup truck load and just one broken heart. as hard as this is for me, it must be much harder for her. She's doing the best she can and so am I.
There is nothing I can say that I haven't said. There is nothing I can do that I haven't done. I need to be quiet and give her space, which is perhaps the hardest possible thing.
I don't want to find a new relationship, just a series of meaningless flings. I'm out of meaning to share. New love seems too hard right now. I want to simultaneously forget and remember. I want to forgive my tresspasses as I forgive those who tresspass against me. I thought a few months ago that I could get away from my problems by moving far away, but my problems were wiley and followed me. I cannot avoid the crushing pain of existance, I can just find ways to ameliorate it, to face it head on and survive, to know that I am stronger than pain and that I can stand alone and prosper and then stand with friends and be truly blessed. I have wonderful friends.