Coffee and Oxford at nighttime.

I enjoy Oxford a lot better at night time... when the streets aren't polluted with people and it's not a nightmare of a game trying to quickly weave through an obstacle course I didn't sign up to play.  Street lamps softly light up the streets and glow onto the couples holding hands, hibernating during the day until the stress of the streets winds down.  I walk just for the sake of walking at nighttime. I stride without purpose.  I take time to look into the window fronts of shops I'm too busy to observe during the day.  I don't mind getting lost at nighttime.  I walk down streets I've never noticed and discover new routes to where I tend to go during the day.

Oxford seems to be saturated with drunken university students which is a scene I graduated away from a long time ago.  It's also a great place to indulge in a little retail therapy which is unfortunate for me because I don't have money to frivolously spend.

I do, when I scrounge up enough change, indulge in a medium sized Americano.  I'll either sit in a coffee shop closely stitched to a window, watching the faces go by, or I'll walk around the streets with it, my name Sharpied on the side.  It's becoming a routine.  Coffee and Oxford at nighttime.  It's my escape from the chaos that exists during the day... being bombarded by the numbing scheduled routines of goers, mapping out their routes on their iPhones, getting my head around and trying to comprehend the days' metaphysics that makes up the majority of my Masters program, and the reality of wishing I had my partner to shield me from the stress of it all.

Nothing could've prepared me for this

I'd been preparing myself for this moment since the first time I met Jesse, when I quickly texted my friend exclaiming I'd just met my future husband.  I'd been preparing for this moment since he and I first started dating, quickly realizing I'd never in my life felt so comfortable with anyone before.  I'd been preparing for this moment since the first night Jesse and I decided to become official, after promising him the best and most memorable ten months of his life (after spending the prior two together) before I took off to school in England.

Through every flawless and breathtaking memory we'd created over the past year, I'd simultaneously appreciate the effortless perfection of it... fully accepting the imminent reality of having to leave him in September.  I think, in a way, us knowing there was a time limit on building the foundation of our relationship made us truly appreciate every moment of it.

Knowing it was coming doesn't make my heart ache any less.  I'm not sure any amount of televised warnings and gradual collection of canned goods could've ever prepared me for the storm that's erupting inside of me right now.

Saying goodbye to Jesse was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  Saying goodbye is never easy but I feel completely empty without him.  That may be disgusting drastic for most of you but if you've ever experienced true unconditional love (the kind that makes other people want to throw up), you'll be smitten with my words.  We stood for fifteen minutes at his check-in area, locked in the most heartbreaking embrace... the kind where you try to memorize everything, so that letting go isn't so difficult while the feeling still lingers.  He still lingers.  I can feel his hand on my knee, his kiss on my cheek, and his hand delicately enveloping the back of my neck.

today > yesterday

Today went a lot better than yesterday.

Yesterday, after the bombardment of different, well, everything, I nestled into Jess' shoulder while we stood on the corner of a street in Oxford and I began to sob.

I'm not even entirely sure it was the shock of everything that upset me.  I think it was the sudden realization that everything foreign to me in that moment would eventually become comfortable... would become normal... and would ultimately out shadow everything I'd fallen in love with about my life over the last year.

This isn't a vacation.  It's my life.

I'm still in the process of getting everything I need;  You know, the stupid shit that you don't even think of until you go to grab for it... bath towels, garbage bags, pillows, Heinz ketchup...

We've walked into the city centre four times now.  Each time it seems a little closer.  It's about 25 minutes.  I could get a bus pass but there's no way in hell my ass would get any smaller by resorting to that route.  I'll suck it up and enjoy the walk, embracing my new home as positively and enthusiastically as I can.

A grocery store is only about a four minute walk away... followed by everything else I could possibly need.  Jess and I ate at this very cute fish and chip shop close by with the friendliest people and tastiest comfort food.  We both agreed we'd stop by again before he flies back to Nova Scotia.

It's been rainy and damp but that was to be expected.  I need to invest in an inexpensive rain jacket.  I've been budgeting the little bit of cash I brought over with me to get me through until I can set up a bank account.  The cash stays hidden in one of many Kraft Dinner boxes on my shelf.

We have my room pretty well set up now.  I have to give Jesse most of the credit.  While I was blaming my exhaustion on jet lag and trying to stealthily sneak in a nap, he was unpacking and organizing my junk.

So, while yesterday ended in a few stressful tears... today ended with a few glasses of wine with my new flatmates and Heinz ketchup stocked in my kitchen.

Today went a lot better than yesterday.

Star of my eye

Jess and I had just begun dating, many months ago.  We were sitting on the couch, sharing a computer screen while we exchanged funny YouTube videos. It graduated into him showing me various videos he'd taken while he was on tour in Afghan with the military.  He then hauled out of a velvet jewellery case two cat eye gems he'd purchased while overseas.  He told me he, someday, planned on getting the two gems made into two rings - one for him and one for a special girl.  He told me that once he eventually met the right girl, he would do that.

--

Jesse's flight was a couple of hours ago.  I still have another hour to wait before I board my plane to Frankfurt where I transfer onto another flight to London.  Jess was flying to Ottawa and then transferring over onto his flight to London.

It'd been a short, disgusting and stressful jaunt through check-in where I apparently packed too much in my carry-on luggage.  I was forced to unpack my luggage and disperse the weight.  My hair stuck to my sweat-soaked forehead when I finally made my way to Jesse's gate with my, now, two-pound lighter bag around my shoulder.  I plunked myself next to him, sharing his seat while I draped my arm over his shoulder and planted a kiss on his cheek.

It seemed almost instantly that the announcement interrupted our fixed gaze, stating they were beginning boarding for his flight.  We stood up.  I kissed him goodbye, "I'll see you across the pond."

He made his way closer to the gate.  The crowd was hurrying through.  "Babe, as soon as I walk through those doors I want you to look into your bag, pull out my camera case and look inside.  Then, I want you to open that letter I gave you earlier."  I watched him cross over to the other side and I found a seat, dropping my carry-on bag on the seat next to me.  Jess stood, standing on the other side of the glass doors, watching and smiling.

I, once upon a time, told Jess all I ever wanted from him was a 25cent ring from a candy machine, with the plastic bubble case of course.  I'm not one of those girls who ever wants expensive frivolous jewellery.

I opened up the camera case, pulling out a plastic bubble case, which looked like the ones I'd often jokingly point to anytime we passed by a toy and candy vending machine.  Tears pooled in my eyes while I broke open the plastic case, revealing a ring with diamonds and the cateye, star sapphire, gem he'd told me about months ago.

I looked back up at him, telling him I loved him.  He blew me a kiss and walked away to his plane.  I pulled open a beautiful card he'd written explaining the meaning of the ring and stating it was a reflection of his promise to one day marry me.

When you look at the ring in the light, a star illuminates in it: "This way," Jesse said, "when we look at the rings in the light while there are no stars out, we can picture each other while looking at the star we hold close to us."

My last sleep in my bed, our bed.

I'm laying in bed, avoiding the inevitable.  I'm soaking up the simplicity of my cool, comfortable blankets, while subtly choosing to ignore the reality of having to leave tomorrow.

I want this.  I do.  Once upon a time it was exactly what I wanted.  Going to England was the missing piece of my life puzzle.  Well, maybe not England per se, but perhaps the possibility of stumbling upon some sort of solid meaning there.  England was supposed to be a breath of fresh air - an escape from the  predictable and unsatisfying life I'd reluctantly nestled into.

That is... until I met Jesse.  I realize now that he was that missing piece I'd been searching for.  Shit, that sounds cheesy, but it's true.  He, all too effortlessly, gave my life meaning.  I'd found true love, true happiness, when I found him.  It's cliche, maybe; however, I'll embrace it and announce to the world that I'm in love and flawlessly happy.

So, I'm laying in bed, our bed, trying to memorize everything about this moment: the way my laptop screen shines its illuminating ray onto his face, the soft rumble of the dehumidifier at our feet, the smell of the coconut body scrub Jesse must've showered with today, the comforting gentleness of his hand as it rests on my arm, and the nauseating feeling that boils inside me as I think about leaving all of this behind, temporarily, after tonight.