I’m A Little Rusty At This

I’m sitting in my living room looking at pictures on the floor in the hallway; accumulated mementos of a shared life with my favorite person. 


In case you thought I was lying

Deciding what to keep, what to leave behind… has never really been difficult for me when it was just me. I would just… go. But it isn’t just me and it isn’t just stuff. It’s this life we’ve made together. It’s I got that for you and I remember when she surprised me with this

And it’s there is no fucking way I am getting rid of my PlayStation.

So we’re going to Paris. I still can’t believe it. I mean, sure, there are still any number of things that could happen to derail this, but, I dunno. It went from a five year plan – I never thought I would be a five year plan guy – to, let’s see how the next election goes, to you know, if we can sell our house for the price we want we’ll have all the money we need, to our realtor telling us yeah, you can definitely sell it for that

So now it’s, we’re doing this? 

Yeah, we’re doing this!

The initial excitement of it all abated some today as I took down these mementos… these things we hung just so because this is our forever home. This is our island, our refuge. 

Sure I hate everything outside of this island because, well, Florida. But still.

The next few days and weeks are going to be constant change. If I had to do it alone or with anyone not TGB I think I would freak out. Instead, I look over at her sitting in her recliner, putzing on her phone, drinking her bourbon and I know that this life we have is about to get crazy good. 


So yeah, I am going to miss Chez Martinez. But …


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