Sailing Away

He would be gone three months, he said. Four at the most. Not really so long, he said. Four months at sea, away from me, by choice.

A sail of a lifetime to be sure. Filled with daily challenges, adventures, bonding with family, testing his skill as the skipper of a large, privately owned sailing vessel. His days consisting of open water, ports of call, exotic landscapes and free roaming wildlife. His nights packed full of rivalry, drink, wine, good food and companionship. No time for missing anyone back home, her or me certainly.

A difficult relationship made more so by distance, prior commitments and life, now made excruciatingly impossible for me, left at home, alone. Day upon day of abject loneliness, an alone he has not and will never experience. A week goes by of talking only to the dogs, if I remember to talk at all. Each night a torment, watching the hours tick by in agonizing slow-motion. Even the minute hand dragging as though mired in molasses.

Sleepless nights turn into restless days. Isolation and desolation eating away at an already damaged heart. Body craving the touch of another. A caress, a hug, a smile or a kiss. Aging comes quicker now, mortality a very real threat for either of us. Wondering if this will be our last goodbye.