As we'd left the reception, I pointed the car toward the end of our evening, confident of my path despite the darkness. Did I need directions, zie mused... "No, I know where I am," I replied before explaining that I could surely pick a route close to optimal with just what I knew of this place I'd never been before. Shortly zie fell asleep, and I was alone with some quiet music as I zipped back toward the city.
Today, though, we were both awake. I looked around me, my mind replaying the events of the previous 13 days. Ahead of me stood moving. Finally I would have a place of my own, for the first time this year. But something to look forward to didn't negate the sadness I had from my impending departure.
As we continued east, traffic quickly congealed as we reached a merge point, and we slowed to a crawl. There was no fear: I knew I would make my flight, and I could tell zie did too: despite our silence, we still were communicating via other channels. Physically, if only by a light touch. Emotionally, our tender souls laid bare.
A wisecrack about the signage broke the silence, and I chuckled as I replied. As we stopped, I collected my belongings, and we exchanged a touching goodbye. The silence enveloped me again as I walked into the building, turning once to blow a kiss before walking out of sight.