I am still processing everything, but I need to braindump some of it.

It is late Monday night, memorial day weekend, and I am still wrapping my mind around the looks and words of my darling Bon Vivant as he walked back into his building.

He told me that he will miss me.  He told me that he loves me.  He told me he was afraid he was going to cry.  We refused to speak of it further as “I can’t do sad goodbyes.”

And we embraced and kissed.  And then he walked into his building and I weht in search of a cab.

I was in a dynamite dress . . . the dress I’d been wearing on Saturday night, then all day on Sunday, and finally now, on Monday.  It was a dress I wore specifically for BV’s benefit.

I have spent the last three nights with Bon Vivant and four days.  My head is still reeling a bit.

It was really fun, but normal people fun.  In other words, no drugs. No nothing.

Last night, as we got ready for bed (it may have been close to 6 am and I grabbed him from the sofa to come to bed, he said, “tomorrow is Monday, and I need you to help me pack.”

He did.  Packing took an hour of plotting and thinking.

He is going away for nearly a month, and I am really sad about it.  But trying to be brave.  He’s sad, too, but trying to be brave.

We made plans for 2 days after he comes back to town.  A party to which I want him to be my plus one.

I discovered he calls me by my full first name when talking to his parents.  He has told his parents about me, how much he loves me, and how amazing I am.

But, for now, I am sleepily typing this so I can remember the look on his face as we parted.

I love him.  He loves me.  He’s now gone for a month.