Stomach just dropped at the notion that I'm leaving again. I don't know why this goodbye is going to be so much harder than the last. I see some people and their smiles make me ache. Today was a perfect day.

6 am swimming, riding my thin withered friend, reading Thomas Wolfe, writing letters, drinking chai, smoking my pipe, swimming in the river with rope swings again, driving around town smoking out the windows, napping with good friends on wide couches, boxed wine, talking, laughing, crying, and even singing karaoke, well it makes it damned hard to leave.

It's foggy in the mornings here, and I think the green might even hint of Ireland. And then the sun comes with the breeze and by noon it's hot and sticky. Then the summer rains monsoon for an hour, quieting the already meek town into a wet haze. And then the humidity lifts and the sun shines and the breeze flows and I breathe sweet southern air.

Here, I talk gardening and soil. And YHWH with his green thumb and my aching muscles and tanning arms. YHWH, if you want, if you want , I'd stay here. I'm torn a hundred different ways, I'm stretched and weary. I hugged and didn't want to let go, wouldn't have if Time didn't move so impatiently. It hurts, it hurts. Today hurts, I don't want to grow anymore. I don't want to say good bye anymore.

And always I think of you.