Cusps
Spring sprang sprung.
The clock is ticking. I've been diligently noting dates for a few weeks, counting down, and now we're a few days away from moving. D-3 to be exact. The gears are shifting...from a kind of reluctance and inertia (I dread packing), to activated let's-get-things-done. Things need to be put into boxes, thoughts and emotions and loose ends tidied up.
J drops me off at the cafe this morning, the usual cafe at the usual time. I am the first or second customer, as usual. I order the same drink, regular please and yes for here, take the same seat in the corner — the one in front of the wide set of floor-to-ceiling windows and I park myself there until the library opens. I get my coffee when it's done, then settle down, toggling between writing and people watching for the next hour or two. Sometimes when it's mild outside and the sunshine looks too good to pass on, I take a walk at the park by the river.
Knowing this town over the last four months have been interesting. I ply the same routes over and over, deviating from it only occasionally. The cafe, the park, the bus station, the library, the grocery store, the climbing gym. I've realized how I don't need much from a city and that is truly a relief. I mostly need a place to be and I'm glad places like that are on offer here — this generosity is felt most deeply in the park and the library.
Sometimes we leave places and don't know the next time we might be back and this is one of those times. Be it with places or people, the anticipation of a relationship lapsing, even if temporarily, changes the way we relate to it in the moment. I will grant myself the permission to be emotional and sentimental here, and say that there is a sense of gravitas to this departure, because I don't know when I will return to this place, and should I find myself back here again, who I would be then.
Anyhow, next time is next time, and now is now1. It is sunny and mild out there, a beautiful day to walk myself out over the next few slow hours, resting my eyes on everything.
