I didn't expect a call from my landlord to say that Ya Vez would be moving by midnight tonight.
My first thought was to buy a six-pack and sit on the back porch to watch the process, applaud occasionally and truly verify he was telling the truth.
While I feel LOADS better she's going, this and many other events these last three months, work to remind me of the ways we were good together and the many ways we were dysfunctional.
Hell, who doesn't use the word "dysfunctional" anymore - who has not been fucked by some body or some thing or some idea to screw with the way we feel about ourselves, our body, our own ability.
I wish Ya Vez luck, not just with all of life, shit, she can't be moving/living that far away. I wish her luck with the stuff she carries that makes her so angry so often. And let's hope it doesn't have to become a blame thing.
We each carry our own shit. Sometimes you can find someone who will help you with your load for a little while. Then you can make a cafecito and carry their crap for them for a little while. We all deserve to rest within some moment in our hearts.