Brian left today, just a few minutes ago from this moment of recollection. We spent the entire day together, though we were with his family for the majority of the time, and thus did not really get a chance to be intimate or affectionate in any way until we came back to my house.
His dad picked me up at noon for lunch at Buca with his immediate family and his grandma and aunt – they are a quiet bunch, and when with them I often become hypersensitive to the loudness of my voice. And I bumble around like an idiot, because I conversationally cannot keep up with their references and their histories, and I often resort to talking to Brian privately, as though his family weren't there, and only now do I realize how awkward that must be for them, to be ostracized by their own son's girlfriend who is whispering in secrecy to their eldest son. But it's a crutch, a reliable resort, so I don't do much to stop it – only feel awkward after the fact.
We ate Buca and then I went to Target with him and his dad to buy underwear (who could have guess I would spend a Saturday afternoon like this?) and then we came back and worked on the sonic animation (*sonik) and watched The Office and ate cookies and watched more TV and played Apples to Apples, and then we came back to my house and watched more television, because what else is there to do when you are simply biding time?
This separation is much easier than those in the past. We were teenagers back then, and we had not known much life beyond our neighborhoods. Now, he leaves for a PhD, and I stay (for a bit) for my undergraduate degree. We also know not to dwell on our separation but rather remain positive in the face of sadness, because we are coming together soon, and life will begin anew. It's really ok this time; neither of us cried.
Life will be well.