Cuddling next to Buttercup this morning, I fought to stay in the present.
I fought to not think about tomorrow. Or Saturday. Or Sunday.
Saturday I will drive her to the airport with a month’s worth of clothes and a one way ticket to New York.
Sunday morning I will wake up alone. And for the first time in a year, I won’t know when the next time I’ll wake next to her.
There are so many intellectual reasons why this move makes sense.
So much logic that supports her decision to go to New York.
So many arguments why I should let her go…encourage her, even.
But those reason are flimsy when she is warm in my arms.
And a cold, empty bed knows nothing of logic.