Waking this morning to find heart-breaking tweets from my love, I can't help but be asking this question. It isn't like it's the first time in the last week that I've asked the question. Ever since my passport arrived last Saturday while she was still here, we've been - or I've been - asking the question.
There are three or four "hooks", I guess, that keep me from taking off immediately, and even then, their ability to hold me here keeps loosening.
The first hook we talked about when we first became romantic was the one that provided us the structure of the laughable idea of a two-year plan. My commitment to my church. But I have quickly grown to realize that these people truly care for me, and what they would want most for me is to be happy. And the new guy we have in as priest is doing a good job getting himself settled in and taking ownership. They don't need me like they might have needed me if he hadn't done this as he should. When we were dealing with supply priests - a priest who was just filling in as a supply for our need - then we were the ones still responsible for running the church. That just doesn't apply any more. Thank goodness!
So while I will feel some guilt and some loss at letting go of this fine community that helped me sail through my healing and recovery process, I know, nonetheless, that when I'm ready to say "goodbye", they'll be okay. That is a hook that I can gently release.
The second hook is actually two fold - just cleaning up and packing to go and leaving nothing behind. I have accumulated some junk - none of which I am attached to to keep other than if I am living here. Furniture, basically. And I've just accumulated a lot of paperwork that is unnecessary to keep - stuff that I couldn't throw out because I *MIGHT* need it. As well as the general paraphernalia for running a household. Like a fridge. Or lawnmower. I need to clean these out of the house, apparently, before I were to move. And to pack up what remains reasonably enough to fit in my car. This is somewhat easy, although, I don't want to call Salvation Army to pick up my bed until the car itself is packed and ready to go... I kinda enjoy having some place to sleep other than the floor...
The second "fold" of this is that I did manage to rescue some stuff from California when I left. And it has all been sitting in a storage unit about 300-400 miles away near where my folks' live. Surprisingly it is not worth continuing to pay $200+ a month to keep. They have been kind to help me do so, as I have been unable to face the overwhelming monstrosity that is the storage unit, but it is time for it to be cleaned out and stuff to be tossed and sold and given away. I have been ignoring it for three and a half years now, it is time to face it and deal with it - before I move on.
The last hook is an awkward one, frankly. I finally return to work this week after having been gone for nearly three weeks, really, even though she was only here for one of them. I had a parishioner who was dying, and I stayed with him and his family for the last two days of his life, and I had a few of my "old ladies" go in and out of the hospital, and I did have a funeral to help prepare for. The two weeks before my love visited were full, to say the least. So, I get a bit of understandable guff from the guy who owns the place and who was kind enough to hire me over whether I'm still working here or not. On more than one occasion. And so I have to pretend like it's business as usual because it isn't as if I have any clue exactly when I will get everything together to go, and money - particularly for making a move - is a good thing. And I'm a writer for him.. I have several outstanding things I've been working on. Some of which - yes - could be written remotely, but he'd prefer to see my face to know I'm working on it and making progress. I can't exactly leave entirely without finishing what he's been paying me to write. And I'm not exactly sure how and when that will happen.
But I want to pack up my car and go now. Call a friend and ask her to deal with the Salvation Army for the furniture - tell her she has until the end of the month since the rent is paid up. Offer the appliances to the landlord. And go. That's what I want to do now.
But there's an annual meeting for church that I'm running... and then there's those pesky projects that need to be finished and the outstanding storage unit to be dealt with...
I have the passport burning the metaphorical hole in my pocket...