I'm really really tired, I've slept about 2 hours in the past 48, but I think it'll be best if I write it in the same mindstate before sleep resets me.

I wake up at approximately 9 am, sunshine sneaks through the blinds in your window and you hit your snooze alarm for what feels like the hundredth time. You put Regina Spektor on and to my surprise say this is the only song you've heard of her and try to dance away the feeling of dread that you will be driving 3 hours to your families house and regret that this will be our last meeting for awhile. You put on your black cigarette slim skinny jeans that you've been wearing for 6 days and I smile knowing I am not alone in taking liberties with "breaking in" clothing. You leave me alone for 5 minutes as I lie underneath the blanket you've sewn yourself and ask how have I gotten here, and why do I never want to leave?

We sit and have a few last laughs and reminisce about sharing peach rings in reclinable front row seats of dark movie theaters, which was really just tuesday.

I get up and put my jeans on and it feels like a lifetime has passed since you threw them on your floor and hit your 5 month old kitten in her head with my red buckle. My head suddenly feels as if I am floating in the altantic ocean as the $6 bottle of white wine we shared the night before starts to close the distance between my bloodstream and the rest of my body.

I look at the elephant drawing you gave me the night before sitting next to my cellphone with one missed call and a pack of Indian cigarettes and smile knowing I am at least a little smarter this hung over morning for learning through you that when elephants get scared they wave their floopy ears in order to appear larger.

We quietly finish getting dressed as your black cat steals one last sneeze from me as we head out the front door and into the sunsoaked new jersey suburban street.

Our goodbye is short. We had said goodbye 36 hours earlier, and it (still) feels like an entire lifetime has passed since than. Goodbye has never felt more like "hello" than it had until this point, and small simple things feel like shotgun shells of nostalgia for a moment when for fucks sake everything was ok, well minus the cat allergy.