My soul feels like it has been removed with a dull butter knife. Loneliness has set in after the whirl-wind chaotic love of mom and dad’s visit. Again, with most things Florence, I was warned this would happen. You get to a point where you just start wanting a return to your old life. Comfortable, boring, well-worn old life — in my case a life of cats and home and green and not much else, but it was mine. And I could see almost anyone I wanted to in a matter of hours or minutes. So now I am there in my head, but so, so far away in body. And oddly enough, I felt this remove as my parents were headed back to Pisa. (shouldn’t I have savored the moment longer?) My dad said soon after I arrived here that absence opens up so much space in your heart. He is correct, but presence reminds you why you love in the first place.
So the dull ache of lonely. But the week brought other reunions. An old friend and his wife and laughter that only can occur under his spell. That was nice. And meeting new interesting people is better than most feelings. But still, I’m here. The people I love the most are far away and nothing really fixes that except overcoming space.