without you, there'd be no sundae

he left again this morning. you would think that it had little effect on me anymore, but no matter how many times (and oh there have been many) that I have kissed him goodbye and said "come home soon", the soon feels so far away, like some impossible goal. he is going to japan this time, and australia. I am going to be here, like usual, keeping our apartment anchored to the earth. while he flies, I will do my best to stay grounded. yesterday he was telling a friend on the phone how lately life for him has felt like one cherry after another is falling on top of his sundae. it's scary almost, just when you think it couldn't get better, a fatter and juicier cherry flops on the sundae. I told him this morning when the alarm went off, myself already awake in the dark, that I felt like I was once the biggest cherry on that sundae, but it was hard now to compete with all the excitement that was swirling around like caramel in his sweet life. he got still and I could feel him thinking, and then he wrapped me in his arms and said, "no, you're the bowl, without you, there'd be no sundae."