Early this morning The Bubs and I had to drive to Malibu to handle some unpleasant business. Afterward, he asked if I'd like to spend a little time at El Matador, a beautiful Malibu beach that means a lot to us. It's where he proposed to me. It's where I said Yes.
This week I am moving out of our apartment and into a friend's place. This friend will be working in New York until August, and generously asked me to housesit while she's gone (generously because it's more for my sake than hers). To speak plainly, The Bubs and I are separating, so it's not an easy time for me (for us). This July = 5 years of marriage, and 7 years together, and I'm trying to figure out what to make of it all, or if anything needs to be made. Maybe it just is what it is.
I get crazy and want to erase it all, forgive it all, kill to bring it all back together, kill to tear it apart, and this is in the course of, say, any given hour. But we have agreed to do things gently, and I am for that, and I live it as strongly and as often as I can.
I know I've said it, and our dear Oprah says it often enough, but A New Earth is a balm in a trying time like this. There is nothing you can ever need that the present moment cannot give you.
And so more and more I let it carry me.
Today, this is where I ended up:
With The Bubs, who likes himself an ascot when the occasion arises.
I was dressed for staying in the car and coming back home for a nap, but wearing my new hat, made especially for me by the woolanthropist, which gave me an element of cool right up there with The Bubs. I tried it on him for a minute, then took it back because it looked too good.
The Bubs is a tongue slipper.
Sometimes I forget that Bubs is his own world. Even now, I think of him as mine, mine, mine. He's his, most of all. I want the secret to how to love without devouring.
Hard to read it here, but someone wrote "GOD WER BLESSED" in the sand. We laughed at the spelling, but we got the message.
On the way out, Bubs picked some wildflowers.
And set them in a vase.