I’m leaving tomorrow.
I know you are, baby. I’m drawing out every second left ’til you fly.
Are you scared?
I am a little right now, baby. But I promise you I’ll be okay.
Have you decided? Will you still love the oceans when they are without me?
I’ve thought about this for countless nights, baby.
So listen. How does this sound?
If the most amazing love I’ve made was the love I made to you, and the most amazing love we’ve found was the love we found in the oceans, of course I will still love the oceans, but I won’t love them the way I do when they are with you.
So baby, listen. How does this sound?
I’ll make my way down into the deep blue the way that you and I always do. Remember those shipwrecks we used to explore together? The ones where we’d make our way through and imagine the ways they looked when they were full of life? I’ll make my way down to one while you’re miles and miles away and you may be out in the fields learning how to shoot or up on your rack trying to get some sleep and I’ll imagine the ways we were when we were together and full of life.
So you will love them without me still? Is that what you’re saying?
That’s the thing, baby. You’re not getting the point.
Of course I will still love them without you.
But I’ll spend my days in them remembering the love we made before you left.
It won’t be the same.
I’ll be back soon. Take care of them for me.
Of course I will. It’s all I will pour my love into until you return.
And then you can love them the way you do when I am in them again.
And then I can love them the way I do when you are in them again.