But now he has gone again. And I can't con myself any more into believing that this is temporary, that he's going to come back.
The Guy has moved to Hyderabad. Moved for a job opportunity that was too good to pass up. And I stay on here, for a job that's too good to let go. We made, again, what seemed like the most rational decision. And we don't regret it. So far, it's going better than expected. I am missing him less than I had expected, and I am definitely not miserable.
Yet it seems just a little pointless to come home each day to an empty house, to hear the Guy and talk to him but not be able to see or touch him. To sleep carefully on my side of the bed even though the other side is empty. To sit alone on the couch meant for two. To get dressed in the morning without asking for his opinion on what I should wear or how I look.
It's not sad, not depressing, definitely not unbearable. Just a little empty, just a little meaningless.