Actually, I think I’m mourning us both, collectively, Jay-and-Robin, and how we were up until last Thursday. We made sense before then. I miss making sense. And I miss Jay too, more than I’m pissed at him. Strange how he managed to be the one who took things too far. He left on Friday while I was at the shop. He propped a note on the dining room table, right where the parmesan cheese had been sitting the evening before. Robin, I’m going away for a couple weeks to give us both time to think about what we want. Let’s not call each other until next weekend unless there’s an emergency. Love, Jay. “Away” means Michigan, I assume. Jay’s got plenty of old college friends there he could crash with. Someone must have given him a lift to the bus station or the airport, as there were fresh tire treads in the snowy driveway when I got home that night. I wonder what he told them. His stuff is still in the house, minus his laptop and some clothes. I guess you might say we’re having a separation.
