The phone beeped again. Another picture from north of the Arctic Circle, a valley spreading out under the midnight sun. It must be dawn now, it's lighter than when we came up here. The delicious sense of not knowing if it's evening or morning. The moment that makes all the others worth enduring.
Meanwhile, I sat in a park in the city, looking out over South Island rooftops, and we knew it was evening, if not for long. I spend all my days drunk now, it's too hard to resist, too easy to be swept away, I forget to sleep. Summer is like love and eating seems superfluous, common decency with it. I consider taking my sleeping bag and moving into the grass. Every leaf has the power to take my breath away.
Deciding to leave allows me to love this city, this moment, this summer. Early stages of separation grants me the freedom to embrace without fear, to ignore the faulty steps and failed comparisons. I will leave.
But I will laugh every step of the way.
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