Remains of the chocolate cake

How do you get used to your heart breaking?

Boyfriend J has gone back to California to start his new job yesterday and it was another one of our airport goodbyes. I was well behaved the whole day, from making lunch to hanging out at Boston Pride 07 (1st Pride! NYC 08 Pride!) to seeing him walk through the departure gates.

All was fine till I walked away and I realised I was alone again.

And I started to cry, big balls of breathless sobbing welted up and I walked back to the car feeling like I always do when we say good bye – bereaved, tired and indignant.

J called me from the airplane and instantly knew what was happening and stayed with me through the phone for the few minutes he had before he flew off.

And so now I’m staring at this wonderfully decadent chocolate cake J bought a few days ago to cheer me up. He knew that Mondays are bad and he snuck out to buy the cake from this really expensive foufou bakery in Harvard Square.

We planned to finish the cake by Saturday before he leaves but the cake was just too rich… and so I have the last slice in the fridge.

A part of me wants to keep that small piece till he comes back, maybe with that small slice of magic cake, he will come back a little earlier.

The months of magical thinking, the sheer power of wistful thinking will bring him back.

Afterall with all that sugar, the cake will last forever.