I hate to feel the love between us die.
I don't care for goodbyes. I either expect too much, or fear the worst. I expect him to whisper something lasting in my ear just before we part ways. And dread him even touching me and telling me its been an honor. And for her, its just going to be sad. And with her, totally phony and I may have to lie about my feelings. Awkward goodbyes. Joyful goodbyes. Heartache goodbyes. Empty Goodbyes. Hopeful Goodbyes. And so they start. Have started already.
Tomorrow is my last day at work. The very last one. 2 years and 4 months ago I said, 'Yes, I'll do it. I'll come here 5 days a week, every week, with no more than 3 off in any given year. That sounds like a fair exchange for a chunk of cash." Tomorrow, I will take those words back. And take my time back. And take my debt back.
The best days of a boat owner's life are the day he buys the boat, and the day he sells it. So it is with me and my work, to date.
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