Morphing is a painful business

The topic of change and transformation has been (will continue to be in the coming months) very much in the foreground of my mind.

And that was what this morning was - morphing from one thing to another. A positive end to one stage, and a wait for the next thing to evolve.

But by golly, these things feel like a regression sometimes.

Nothing is pointless, nothing is wasted, and the past 1 year and 3 months has largely been good, and I'm glad that it moved on with a lot of warmth and love. Thank you so much, my dear xiao mao.

All the same, it hurts a good deal, more than I thought it would. That picture we took on your birthday is still on the shelf and will probably take me a little while before I put it aside. The ring will sit on my counter a while more too. Know that I'm missing you so much now.

Parting at my door brought back another very unwelcome memory: the previous time I'd said a goodbye on the same spot. I'm sorry to relate the two, which have nothing to do with each other, save their cumulative effect on my state.

Experience helps to heal more quickly but doesn't numb very well. The pain of parting becomes less long-lived but more tiring each time.

I really wish I never have to do this again, knowing I will, in some form or the other; I'd just been going through a good spell the past few years. But gosh, I really do wish I'll never have to again.

"Let me not outlive my own capacity to love."
"Let me die still loving, and so, never die."
~Mary Zimmerman~