June 3, 2008

June 3rd was perhaps the worst day of my life (his too, he says). We had spent the morning and early afternoon together, trying to ignore that we were about to say goodbye for two years.

I kept it together until he turned to me and said, "Ready to go?" It all hit me like a ton of bricks. He was leaving and I was staying. By the time we were in his car, I had completely lost it. As we made the short drive to my house, I thought, This can't be real life. THIS can't be real life. 

We stood to the side of my house and hugged and cried and hugged and cried and hugged one last time. I walked to the door and he walked to his car. I remember turning around and taking one last look at him. Then just like that, he was gone.

Taken that day