![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Today the movers came.
We found out that the two days we thought we would have them to help sort out what gets sent to the Songbird's new nest in Nairobi and what gets stored or hung onto for her by moi is actually only one. So the whole process had to be radically compressed.
Now I am watching them pack up most of what she owns as I herd my own few possessions into one room. The home we have shared meals and laughed and cried and fought and made love in for four years is disappearing, one piece at a time.
And on Sunday afternoon, so will she, gone for at least two years. And I will be truly on my own for the first time since 2001.
It wasn't really real until now. Today it is. She is weeping and exhausted, neither of us having slept more than two hours a night for the last two, and I am wondering whether I can even get a job to afford the new apartment I'll have to find by this time next month.
And I have never been so depressed—or so terrified—in my entire life.
We found out that the two days we thought we would have them to help sort out what gets sent to the Songbird's new nest in Nairobi and what gets stored or hung onto for her by moi is actually only one. So the whole process had to be radically compressed.
Now I am watching them pack up most of what she owns as I herd my own few possessions into one room. The home we have shared meals and laughed and cried and fought and made love in for four years is disappearing, one piece at a time.
And on Sunday afternoon, so will she, gone for at least two years. And I will be truly on my own for the first time since 2001.
It wasn't really real until now. Today it is. She is weeping and exhausted, neither of us having slept more than two hours a night for the last two, and I am wondering whether I can even get a job to afford the new apartment I'll have to find by this time next month.
And I have never been so depressed—or so terrified—in my entire life.
