Sweet sadness.

Jaymay, You are the only one I love

This song came on over my pandora as I pulled the truck away from him last night. It really did not hit me what I had done until I got two blocks from the house and I had to talk myself down out of hysteria. 

This is quite literally, the most physically and emotionally difficult thing I have ever done in my life of 25 years.

It all happened so suddenly.

I feel like the worst person for posting what I did on Sunday because Monday afternoon I found out why he hadn't texted me. He bought his bus ticket and would be leaving on Tuesday night and he was so sad he didn't want me to be sad too. 

One of my friends called this act selfish, but quite honestly, that thought never crossed my mind. He was trying to protect me. He hurt so bad he wanted to save me from it too. I thought it rather brave to try to carry all that hurt by himself. However, the burden is easier to carry with another set of hands and heart. 

I was working a double that day. I didn't have much time between breaks so I just stayed and had lunch with Alex at the store, Nico was line cook for lunch. I had taken a little walk around the strip mall but came right back with this information and presented it to Nico, Jorge's roommate. He just listened to me carry on for a bit then looked at me and told me not to cry. I said, "I won't, I don't know if I have time to be mad or sad right now, he is leaving tomorrow!" 

So I insisted I see Jorge that night after work, quickest close ever. I knew it was his last night and his roommates were going out drinking but I hadn't gotten to see him since Friday, tonight he was mine. He agreed and came quietly. His quiet strength amazes me. I mean if it were me I would want to kick and scream and just lose it, not him, so quiet, so strong. 

I showered and had some dinner. we chit chatted for awhile but in the end we ended up watching each other, studying each other features; the way his eye lashes lay on his cheeks when he blinks or closes his eyes, the scar on his forehead and underneath his bottom lip, his mole on the right side of his chin, his big brown eyes, just taking everything about each other in. I think we both knew and were resigned to the fact that this was going to be our last night, meaningless chit chat would never fill the void that was about to be in both of our chests.

He reached for me and I went willingly into those strong arms. We kissed slowly and wiped away each others burning tears. He then held me so tight I thought I might melt right into him. I willed my skin to absorb right into his. 

The next morning, we walked outside to snow. He looked at me, squeezed my hand, and said, "What a crazy day." ...and how.

I worked, so I took him home and went to clean and prep at Longhorns. Got out of there about noon. Texted him because he was going to take me to the Mexican Grocery store to get a phone card. He was with Nico and little Juan having lunch at La Fiesta. He called and asked me to join them. I changed and went. 

I always feel like Nico is so cool and collected. I got there and Nico scooted over to let me sit down. I was starving but when I got there I couldn't even look at the chips and salsa. I forced myself to eat something, a chicken tacos and rice. I got to sit across from Jorge, so I could study him. He looked so fatigued and hadn't really touched his food. And I didn't listen to most of the conversation, but Nico finally said, "Bridget, you is gringa, it is very easy for you. You get your passport and the world is open to you." He said, "I, I is Mexican, but I cannot go back to Mexico, it is not good, but you, for you it is very easy. Do not be sad." I just smiled and shook my head. I get tired of being told not to be sad, but somehow managed to smile. 

So Jorge and I got up and left. I swear we gave every employee of La Fiesta whiplash for how fast they turned their heads to stare at us walk out together hand in hand. Seeing as most of them know him and me separate. I mean, Rosa and I are on first name terms and the cute little chip guy turned server that I used to smile and make eyes with looked a bit betrayed. 

Went to the tienda and Jorge bought me a $10 phone card to call Mexico on Saturday.

After that he came with me to Sprint to add on international messaging onto my line of the family phone plan. 

We then came back to the house to spend the afternoon together. We layed in bed, after a while of listening to his even breathing I finally fell asleep. We napped, we got up and I showered, and dropped him back home so he could finish getting ready, cut his hair, check his luggage for everything, and get my pillow and blankets in order to return to me. 

I picked him up at eight, he came out looking so sharp, and every article of his clothing besides his boots were purchased by me; dark wash Levi's, a crisp, clean, white t-shirt, his black long sleeve thermal shirt, with his nice jacket on top. Oh and cleanly shaven. Mmmm....I just smiled. I love when he dresses up. Some kind of carnal instinct makes me want to rip those clothes off that he wears so well.

He came carrying my favorite pillow and my Columbia, fleece jacket Mom and Kim got me for Christmas last year. I love this fleece and he kind of confiscated it this past fall. It was ok with me, but he wasn't going to need it, so he returned it. When he turned and went back for his luggage, I just held it up to my face and smelled it. His earthy, sweet, man scent. Is it sad that I am wearing it right now and I wore it to bed last night? It just feels right, almost like he is holding me right now.

Got into the truck and pulled out. Got out to the highway, he made a phone call and it broke my heart. I knew it was to Nico telling him he left Manhattan. I almost cried then but held it in. Sensing his need for me to be strong just then. I kept my eyes on the road and handed him a Kleenex. 

We neared Topeka and the GPS took us to 6th Ave. We went up and down it looking for the place this bus stopped but ended up stopping at a couple of food trucks to ask for directions. 

Side note, before I met Jorge, I might call this area of Topeka the shady part of town; however, since being with Jorge I have learned to take a second look. This maybe an older part of Topeka, past downtown, but not necessarily the shady part. The whole street is Mexican, that's all. Not once was I worried. It is only thought shady because it is unknown and people make assumptions, me being one of them until now. Life lesson I guess. 

So it was where Scottee told me we might find it. I parked right across the street from Deportes y Mas, not an IMAX like the guy who gave Jorge directions...

We were an hour early. He unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me towards him. We just held each other for awhile. It is amazing how hot tears can get, like they just want to burn a hole right through you to your soul because that is how these felt. I am glad I stopped and grabbed some Kleenex. 

When I finally composed myself I pulled away and asked Jorge if I could give him a gift. He just smiled at me and shook his head yes. I grabbed my purse and pulled out a rosary. It is one my grandmother gave me, I have many she gave me but this one never felt like mine. It was red and more masculine than the other ones I own. As soon as I saw it on my shelf, I knew it was his. I asked him if he remembered the first time I drove him home and how he grabbed my chin and told me to, "Vaya con Dios." He shook his head and I placed the rosary around his neck and he squeezed his eyes shut and fat, silent tears rolled down his already damp cheeks. I just tucked it in his shirt and said, "Vaya con Dios, mi amor." I told him to be strong, go with God, and come back to me. He just looked at me and said, "thank you." 

Again we held each other. Drinking each other in. I lost it when he grabbed my forehead and pulled me in close to his chest and buried his face in my hair, smelling my hair. He loves my hair. Oh man. it was like a movie, one of those super cheesy, sweet ones like the Notebook. 

The bus was actually a mini van and it was 36 minutes late. I helped him with his luggage, the driver got in and Jorge and I just stood and looked at each other, I grabbed his collar and pulled him close and kissed him, when we parted I asked for 'un mas,' meaning, 'one more.' A little something I always say, because I just never want one kiss, I always want one more. He told me not good bye, it was see you later. I said "Yes honey, see you in Mexico." 

He got into the van and I into my truck. I pulled away first and made it home. He texted me right as I was pulling into my drive if I made it there. I love that man.

Laying in this bed, the bed we have shared for almost nine months and knowing he is on some bus south of the border is so, not heartbreaking but I don't know, it's sad. I have this helpless feeling right now. His phone stopped working at the border. I sent him a text and he hasn't responded. I don't know if he made it past or where he is. Its killing me...this not knowing.

Our plan we kept repeating to keep us sane, is he is going to text me his new phone number on Friday and I will call him on Saturday to make sure he has made it....what if I never get that text? What if his facebook stays static and he never logs on? what if he is in a ditch somewhere?

These thoughts are the ones I have to fight off. I have to stay positive and hopeful. 

Not going to lie, prayer has helped. every time a negative thought pops up, it;s a Hail Mary to keep me calm. 

so this is our story. 

Our sweet sadness, 

-b

P.S. I went and applied to get my passport this morning. Four to six weeks before the world lay at my fingertips. 

P.S.S. He replied back to my text with, "Ok mi amor, see you then."

Love, B