The notion that not only I have to detach from my stuff, but also from the people around me, slowly hit in like a rock.
Since nothing can go normal in my chaotic world, I was the one crying my boyfriend goodbye at the airport today.
He left to work in Australia for a couple of days, and by the time he gets back, I'll be gone.

This preview of how my actual departure will be, leaves me speechless in an echoing apartment.
The absurdity of emptying my house and filling up his seemed normal, until reality slapped me in the face.

Unless no one died, you are not separated. Death does not part, only a lack of love. As long as you are here, you are still connected.

Pieces of paper with some words used to be our only hope to keep the interaction alive. Today communication is easy and visual.

You are never really away, nor actual present.
Not being able to touch or feel; only hear and see, can be very frustrating, but comforting at the same time.

It's the contradiction of saying goodbye, but not actual going.

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