More preparation

In the quiet parts of my day, I can feel myself preparing for long distance. Whether I am buying juice or petting Ms. Bon Bon, things take on a different hue and I try to store the moment in my memory. The same goes for George, not only do I feel myself trying to be more pleasing and accommodating (for example I did not eat all of the very tasty chocolate bar nor did I leave my usual evidence on the sofa) but we are lengthening our moments. I sit on the couch trying to touch him subtly trying to line my legs and arms up to get the most surface area touching together without being overboard and try to memorize every aspect so that when I miss him I can recreate the moment perfectly. And even when I start to get wiggly or its time to leave, I try to just hold it in for another second. I know how it works and does not work from our years of long distance. I can pull up an early parting from my head, its cool and wet and there is almost full moon and we're just holding on for one more second leaning against my car . . .
He was away for the night last night, and in between there has been a phone call, serving up the typical household business and loose ends. And that old memory came back to keep me company and the memory of remembering. Damn, its hard to live in the moment.