Coming Home

One of the more difficult parts of long-distance relationships is the goodbye at the end of the trip.  It's never easy in any circumstance, and certainly not here, but there's a twist. This goodbye also ends in a hello. Polyamory sometimes comes across as something other than the beautiful, caring thing that it really is.  But here, nearing the sadnessof goodbye, I am also faced with another joyful hello.

I have said many times recently that the presence of one heart does not make the absence of the other any easier. I miss each one, I long to feel that closeness and be near to the melodious sounds of my love's voice. Each of them. It's so damned hard to say hello without remembering that there was just a goodbye. It seems so easy to some who do not understand, but it is far from that.  There is the aching, the stinging, and the sense of loss that comes with each goodbye.  There is, of course, also the joyous elation of each hello, as well. That warm sense of tenderness with that very first hug, that very first kiss.  It is beauty in sadness. The easy solution, as so stated to me from time to time, is to choose one. But would it be easy for you to choose one of your children over the other?  I didn't think so. Each is loved completely. Each a part of you.  The case is the same here.

Instead, I will embrace each heart as I do, I will love and care as I do. And I will miss each heart as I do.  But I will also be so very grateful for that first embrace, that first gaze into loving eyes.

In this case, coming home means leaving home. Just as it did a week ago. Just as it will over and over again.

Tadaima.

(the image is shared from a facebook posting - if it's yours, just ask and I'll take it down)