Transatlantic again

Yesterday we decided to drive to the airport early. Maybe that was the first bad idea. Or maybe it was just because it was raining. In any case, we ended up having to pay a 33 euro fee for parking we weren't aware of, and then needed to fetch our car because the area was being evacuated for an abandoned suitcase. In fact, we had arrived too early, so were unable to fetch my ticket. Then, when I finally passed the passport check at CDG, I needed to stand in line again, while they held up the line for some inexplicable reason. Finally, when I reached the counter, there was another evacuation for abandoned luggage. I am lucky my checked baggages arrived in Washington, and that I didn't have to pay a supplementary charge for my extra suitcase!

From then on, things went smoothly. I slept on the way to London (God knows I needed it, I don't even know why, though.) Even connecting at London Heathrow wasn't so bad. I just followed the signs, and I arrived just in time for my connecting flight home.

I think I am too busy at the moment to miss him too much constantly, but it comes in pangs. I get the same feeling when I fall in love with him all over again. Saying goodbye this time was as difficult as always. In fact, each time we would say goodbye this past summer, I felt it was a rehearsal for the long goodbye that was to accompany the end of summer. He would argue, doesn't that make the greeting all the more wonderful? Maybe so. Each meeting was then more emotionally charged than if it were a normal daily hello/see you at the end of the day routine. The whole cycle was rigorous. I know exactly when I will see him again, and I know that the "Hello" will be nothing less than wonderful, but saying goodbye still throws all of those perfect lines into chaos. Every time.