Love fails me sometimes. And not love maybe, but the word love. It is not enough to say, "I love you," because that doesn't describe this physical ache you feel. It is the same feeling as heartbreak really, and is suffocatingly delicious and terrible at the same time, and that is love.
I have a goodbye to make in a week, and it feels like the biggest goodbye I have ever made. My sister is leaving for 18 months, and although I should feel happy for her I am constantly weeping anytime I even think about it. In the grocery store, on every drive home - chopping vegetables for dinner.
I flew to Arizona for the weekend and seeing all of the reuniting and goodbyes at the airports made me cry even harder. For seeming so small at times, this world is a little too big for me. I wish I could be a mother hen, gathering everyone I love under my wings and keeping them there and that is what I would like to do because it would make this love containable and safe.
I am not good at doing hard things. I am not good at goodbyes. I am not good at saying I love you in the way it begs to be said. I am not.