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Same Blue Sun

I wish I could be there laughing at the same thing you’ll be laughing about three weeks from now. It’s going to be a while. Tomorrow will come, then the weekend will arrive and I am going to seem out of reach. It’s going to be a while and I will be on the other side of the world for over half a year. This reality may seem heavier on Monday mornings. That’s okay.

The young lady I am today isn’t all my mother’s work. I was lucky enough to come across a handful of ladies–one who has been there from the start, who have done some work themselves. Each of you has a little part of Tatiana. I am not sure who else will glide their eyes through these sentences, whoever you are, wherever you are, this ones for the ladies. My ladies to be specific. You know who you are.

Tomorrow I will be 8,401 miles away. That’s roughy over 116 countries and two continents away. I’m not going to be there when you need me, you’re not going to be where I am when the holiday season creeps in. We aren’t even going to share the same seasons.

In one breath, this sounds terrifying. Lucky for us, few things are ever experienced or defined in just one breath. I wanted to make it clear that I would not be getting on that plane tomorrow if it wasn’t for you. It would be hard to believe in the good of humanity if I hadn’t witnessed it at some point of my life. It would be hard to grant my full attention to others if that attention wasn’t reciprocated in some light. We are human, we crave connection and without it we can find our selves drowning in some degree of existentialism. If it was not for each of you, I wouldn’t believe in any of it. I’d be a cold-hearted narcissist; today and from the moment I was able to recognize you were more than just friends to me, I’ve been the complete opposite. You are my sisters by choice. The single most rewarding choice I abide by and the single most rewarding bond I yearn for. You are the reason I believe in the something more.

I’m not sure what will happen between now and April. I won’t be there for what may seem like an endless exile but if you’d do me the favor of looking up at the moon every once in a while, remember it’s the same moon I saw. We are under the same sky. The sun will not shine any brighter for me than it does you, it won’t decrease in size or turn blue and even if it does, we’ll be sharing that same blue sun. Women like you put the stars in the sky. Women like you make the sun turn not only blue but green, pink and silver. You are at the essence of it all.

I love you, kick-ass and promise me a hotel night as soon as I make it home.

I’ll make it home. You are home.

august

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