Yesterday I spent the entire day with P. It was supposed to be the last day of my trip here, so we grabbed BurgerMaster and headed to GasWorks before heading to the top of the Space Needle before heading to my uncle's birthday party and eventually heading out to a martini bar (where the bartender was a-mazing). We spent the day just being. It was nothing fancy or extravagant. It was just designed to maximize our time together. And then came the time for him to drive me back to the hotel. I'm not sure when I started crying, but it came out fast, and before I knew it, I was trying to stifle a full on breakdown. Hugs, kisses, more hugs and several "I love you"s later, I walked into my hotel and left P's arms. I spent the rest of the night racking with tears.
This morning I woke up with a hangover. Not from the martinis. From the crying. I felt like Hell, and I'm sure I looked it. But somehow it didn't matter when my dad texted from the mechanic to say that he was already tired and thought that maybe we should spend one more day. Cue a huge smile from yours truly.
So less than 24 hours after a massive onslaught of tears, I'm getting ready to go out on the last night of my trip with the only guy I want to be with. I know this second goodbye will be hard, but one more day is beyond worth it.
Today, I am grateful for:
* one more day with him.
* the amazingness that was last night's goodbye.
* feeling this loved.
* waking up to a message from P's mom.
* yesterday.
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