Written on December 13, 2023
Context – More than a year ago, Pablo (Paul) and I found ourselves further apart than I’ve ever imagined we could be. Last December 2023 he took a break and went to Las Vegas for a week to work in a hotel room rather then at home. At first I was sad and upset (angry?) at his leaving.
It was rough. Our phone calls were uncomfortable. I was emotional, kind of a mix between anger and despair – he was tired and sounded annoyed. I had a minor car accident. Someone who was beyond intoxicated walked up our driveway at 2:00 AM and knocked loudly on the door. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to ask him to come home. But I also didn’t want to ask — he’d decided to leave, I hadn’t asked him to. And, besides, what if he said no?
While Vegas is a 4+ hour drive from here, it’s barely a one hour flight. Still, I never considered flying there, until I did. The last flight out of LAX arrived just before midnight. Returning, I could fly to LAX before 7AM, arrive at 8:15AM and be at work earlier than usual. Since I had a lot of miles, making the ticket essentially free, I booked it, briefly planning to just show up as a surprise before I messaged him asking if I could come and sleep with him, leaving first thing in the morning. Though he protested he’d be back in only a couple more days he said yes and insisted he’d meet me at the airport.
Okay then.
I wrote this entry that evening, though this is the first time (I think) that anyone’s read it. Probably even me.