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Well, fuck
Feb. 15th, 2019 08:38 amJosh has taken the job. He'll be back in Van, 12 hours away, instead of the somewhat-driveable 5 hours he was before. His hours won't be as flexible so he won't be able to come up here on weekends; he was up here about once a month in the last year.
It was a hard decision for him; very decidedly work he liked vs lifestyle he wanted. He chose work. I sort of always knew he would, but.
It hurts.
The strength of us, and the joy, was in doing projects together. His hands are all over my farm (someone gave me the word "smallholding" the other day and I think I should use it instead of farm). That's the same as saying they're all over my heart and all over my ideas of the future. If he doesn't come up, and if he's living in a little box down there with all his stuff in storage, well. Even if I go down there won't be projects. Making something together with someone- I don't do that much. It's intimate. It's rare to meet a person who fits me in that way.
And of course every unique thing about him, the way he sharpens his kitchen knives and the - oh, I can't do it right now. It's all going through my head and I will miss him so much. And I'm supposed to be working. Fuck poly and the inability to communicate that someone can be completely, uniquely important and it can be awful to lose them even at the same time as someone else is differently important and something with them is gained.
Gods, it /hurts/.
This is the part where nothing has any meaning and it doesn't seem to be worth it to keep going through the motions. All those plants and seeds I have ordered for spring? He's the only one who can appreciate them. He had plant lights in his dorm room in school. Everyone else loves plants as a means to an end - sustainability, local food, health, whatever. He loves them like I do.
Guess it's time to do some work.
I can't even hate this. It just hurts.
It was a hard decision for him; very decidedly work he liked vs lifestyle he wanted. He chose work. I sort of always knew he would, but.
It hurts.
The strength of us, and the joy, was in doing projects together. His hands are all over my farm (someone gave me the word "smallholding" the other day and I think I should use it instead of farm). That's the same as saying they're all over my heart and all over my ideas of the future. If he doesn't come up, and if he's living in a little box down there with all his stuff in storage, well. Even if I go down there won't be projects. Making something together with someone- I don't do that much. It's intimate. It's rare to meet a person who fits me in that way.
And of course every unique thing about him, the way he sharpens his kitchen knives and the - oh, I can't do it right now. It's all going through my head and I will miss him so much. And I'm supposed to be working. Fuck poly and the inability to communicate that someone can be completely, uniquely important and it can be awful to lose them even at the same time as someone else is differently important and something with them is gained.
Gods, it /hurts/.
This is the part where nothing has any meaning and it doesn't seem to be worth it to keep going through the motions. All those plants and seeds I have ordered for spring? He's the only one who can appreciate them. He had plant lights in his dorm room in school. Everyone else loves plants as a means to an end - sustainability, local food, health, whatever. He loves them like I do.
Guess it's time to do some work.
I can't even hate this. It just hurts.
