Every now and then, I worry that the end is near. I don't mean the end of our waiting for this horrible immigration crap to end...it's the kind of end that makes this whole thing moot. It's the end that says there is no more relationship - that the strain of this process has done it's job, done it's worst, done exactly what it shouldn't do, which is tear love apart.
She called me to say that this is too much to bear right now. She called me to say that the waiting and the lonliness and the isolation have taken their toll. She called me to say she's not sure. She didn't call me to say the only words I ever want to hear. She didn't call to say, "I love you."
She'll be here in Seattle tomorrow, for a week. We're a city of earthquakes, and I'm on shakey ground. She's not packed yet and it's 1am in Toronto. What does that tell me? That this is a trip she doesn't want to take. What will I see in her eyes when she arrives? Will I see the someone I love, or will I see a stranger, who looks like her, but is just going through some of the motions until she reclaims her life?
Pray for us.
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