Oslo, Bodø, and Points Norwegian
Sarah flew off to Norway today. It didn’t really hit me until the very second that she disappeared behind the up escalator as I rode the down. It was the sear of fire and smoke in my eyes. It was a scouring of my throat. It was my legs leadening. It was the air jelling. I drowned my way to my car and gasped. She flies East, and soon I will drive West. There will be Christmas, or flights in between — but now — then, as I fumbled my keys into the ignition — she was farther away on the other side of the checkpoint than she will be in Norway. I hope that in two weeks, she’ll call for the thirtieth time to tell me about the color green as it applies to fields, and I’ll tell her about the sun pouring down from the sky and knocking me off of my feet.
My mom, Lisa, Stan, and Noah came to help me pack at 3. Stan and I packed almost the rest of the living room, Lisa and my mom powered through the entirety of the kitchen. Noah watched Futurama and Scooby Doo. I didn’t really think that I had as much kitchen stuff as I do. Anyway, the bedroom, bathroom, fishtank, and “entertainment center” are all that are left– except for the deep cleaning that my apartment doesn’t deserve.
There will be no deep cleaning. There will be halfhearted wiping of stuff and some sweeping. The bathroom will get some scrubbing, you will be out of there, and it will still look better than when you moved in.
It will all be okay. Really. I promise.
I love you sweetheart!