“No one loves the messenger who brings bad news.”
I’ve been in denial about an upcoming Tragic Event. This year as America celebrates its independence with exploding things and overeating, I’ll be not-celebrating my forced independence…from Venice. Val is done with his degree and they are moving to Kentucky on July 4th. This has been a long time coming, but of course I’ve stuck my metaphoric fingers in my ears and ignored the impending catastrophe.
Last weekend they flew out to Kentucky to scope out the area for his potential job, their potential home, and potential lives. Last night, coming home from work I saw him at their flat door and asked how the trip went. Really well, apparently, because he’s got the job and plans are now in motion.
“I am honestly thrilled for you guys, but you do realize I’m never going to forgive you for taking her away,” I said despondently.
“If it wasn’t for me you’d never have even met!” he reasoned.
Which is true. We used to live in the same apartment complex a few years ago and I got to be friends with him and his flatmates. One day he said, “I think you should meet my girlfriend. You two would get along really well.” The rest is well documented history.
The Val giveth and the Val taketh away.
Peregrine is in D.C., Scarlett is in New York, Angel is in the city, Margot (who just got back from New Zealand) is probably going to head north at some point in the near future. And I’m feeling supremely stuck and left behind. I’m trying really hard to keep perspective. J. and I will be moving back East in a couple of years and Venice (and most of others listed) are already on speed-dial…but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t devastated.
11 thoughts on “Not Just a River in Egypt”
I am sorry for your loss.
But, I picked today, before reading the post, to tell you that I love small dogs.
Small girls, too.
Then you have excellent taste.
It’s not like I’m that far away…
Speaking of which: House-warming party. My new flat. Will you come? Date is TBD; some upcoming weekend.
(Oh, did you know I moved last weekend…?)
You are for my dinky little car…sigh…
Know what I’m getting you for Christmas? A plane ticket to come see me… (That is assuming I can find me a job, of course. If not, I’ll just move back and sleep on your couch.)
I may hold you to that.
That is tragic. I hate that kind of thing.
Change makes us better and stronger. It just stinks during the actual process. Sending good vibes from the east.
You’re always welcome on the floor of my miniscule flat. J, too. 🙂
Fear not…the East Coast awaits you!