There we were. Standing against the blue wall next to the door leading out of my house. It was dark, we hadn't switched the lights on. I could hear the strong breeze outside. He was holding me close, my head on his chest. I could smell that familiar scent that I know is uniquely his. I could feel his arms around me. I could hear his heart beating. I was trying desperately to soak it all up. I looked up into his eyes and I could feel the tears well up in my own. I knew it was time to let him go but I just couldn't get myself to do it! He was looking at me, smiling that warm reassuring smile of his. Holding me closer still. We stood like that in silence for a few minutes.  We both knew.  He had to leave but he didn't make any attempts to rush it. I just kept looking up at him. Teary eyed. Helpless. Then he reached up and held my face in his hands as he said " You're so cute when you're like this". We both laughed! It was funny given that being cute was the last of my concerns at that moment!
       
         I knew that once he walked out that door I wasn't going to be able to see him or touch him or hear his voice in person for a year or more. I was going to be lonely and miserable and lost and yearning for him for a long time to come. And I knew I had to let him walk out that door within the next few minutes. My time was running out. He looked hard at me for a second and said "I'm not giving up on you so easy. This is the last time we have to do this. One year is just a few hundred days and before you know it I'll be with you again!" I didn't say anything. I just stood wrapped in him and looked at his face.. at his smile. I love this man. More than I could ever explain to anybody. More than I could ever express to him. Its the kind of love that sinks into your bones and becomes a part of you. And he knows it. He knows I will stay. He knows I will wait for as long as it takes. He knows.. And if I feel weak, he will hold me and give me strength. He won't give up. Thats why I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. I kissed him. I said bye. And I let him go.
       
            I had let him go once before as well. A year before this second parting. And it had been hard. I thought I'd never be able to get out of my bed. I actually didn't for almost a week. There were lots of tears and I was very angry with him for having left. Even though I knew he had no choice. And that this was good for him. But I was still angry. And I had fought with him for many months after. But he had been patient and he had held on until the storm passed. And he had come back to me after a year. So this time as I let him go again, I knew that he would come back. And that I could wait forever for this man with that hope alone. So I let him go.
     
        What hurt the most in doing that was the feeling that I wasn't going to see him again for a long time. I now realize that I never even needed to worry about that. I see him every time I hear the songs he used to sing to me. Every time I pass by the places where we used to laugh and talk and have our lover's tiffs. Every time I look at the coin I keep in my purse that he had gotten for me from a foreign country. And I see him every night when I speak to him on the phone and on the internet as he tells me about his day and I tell him about mine.
       
        Its now been six months from that day of parting. The memory of that night has dimmed considerably. I've grown accustomed to the distance. I have great friends around me that share in my joys, laughter, craziness and keep me company when I get lonely for him.  Sometimes though, I'm still reminded of that night. Like I was today when I came across an old polaroid picture of ours that stays hidden in my bag, all but forgotten. One that was taken four years ago at a beach. I had torn it into two after I had a fight with him during that last visit of his 6 months ago. But I've kept the pieces. Safe and sound,  re-joined with tape! Because I know he'll want to see it next time he's here.    :-)