So yeah, I've been in the guest bed for the past three days, unshowered, laying in a pile of the things she left behind in her haste Monday morning and talking to Max about how much . . . *sniff* . . .
. . . about . . .*sniff* . . .
. . . about how much we fucking love her.
I find that wearing her bra helps keep her close to my heart.
I miss her so much. It's too quiet and normal around here now.
I'm really glad that we fucked up, drinking until 5 or 6 am when she had a 10:55 am flight, because I don't think I'd have been able to let her out of the car if I'd been sober when I dropped her off.
The entire weekend was awesome - tons of food, tons of booze, and sightseeing and talking to strangers and whacking my elbow and losing my camera case - but the highlight of the whole thing for me was was racing across the hall Monday morning with just 40 minutes to get her to the airport yelling "DUDE! IT'S TEN! GET UP! WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!" and seeing her pop out of bed right onto her feet and realizing she'd slept in the Sacajawea costume.
How are you supposed to go on living after something like this ends?
I guess I'll just take it one Godzilla step at at time.
Crap! I almost forgot! I have a confession to make. The Snapvine message left for Zibbs on Monday was actually a voice mail message we left for someone else at 4:30 am (Central.) This person either felt bad for Zibbs not getting the Snapvine message we promised or kinda wanted to rub it in his face a little. Either way, these are the highlights, straight from the horse's mouth/interpretation: I chastise this person for not being awake in the time zone most conducive to drunk dialing (Pacific); Whiskey attempts heavy breathing and out of concern for her health, I ask if she's hot; a bunch of incoherence and giggling; Whiskey yells in the background, "I saw Gwen's bush!" and then I explain that we were changing costumes so it's perfectly acceptable to be naked in the dining room.
But this does not mean that we weren't thinking of The Good Doctor. We were. And we really did try to leave him a message, a task I'm sure a monkey could perform, but of which we were entirely incapable.