The Great Truck Exchange of 2007 is inching ever-closer! I am still so nervous, but mainly now it's because I am starting to feel excited that this burden could actually, really, FINALLY be lifted, and when I start getting excited about something that could easily go wrong at any time, the urge to dry-heave gets pretty tough to resist. I've been cussing a lot this week, but only because when I find myself in situations that are way beyond my control and comfort level, I find that a random string of completely uncalled-for F-bombs really helps. It's all nerves. However, I am really hoping for the best and just trying to go into it as positively as possible.
No, not naively. Positively.
Sean (or, My Boyfriend Who Gives Me Goosebumps And Makes Me So Ridiculously Happy That I Want To Scream My Lungs Out Every Time I Think About Him. I'm Serious. Every Time.) and I are leaving tomorrow after work, with him following me in his truck for the three-and-a-half-hour trip while I drive The Big Gold Bastard. We are staying with my cousins in Boulder and then have to be out at the Denver airport to pick up The Ex (and his girlfriend! Awkward much?) by 7:30 on Saturday morning. They'll load their bags amongst the boxes of belongings that The Ex left behind and get in; we'll talk about the truck and make otherwise strained-but-polite conversation while we drive three minutes over to the gas station by the airport where I will then get out, wish them well, and run happily into the arms of the super-cute Irishman who will be waiting for me inside. SHOULD BE A BARREL OF LAUGHS.
Then it will be over, and all that will stand between the future and the past will be Valentine's Day, when the divorce will be final. Afterward, The Ex and I will only touch base when he refinances the truck after having made consistent, on-time payments (me thinking positively here!), and by then the magic erasers of time, distance, and court fees will have made it all a memory. A blip. A lesson to be learned, and perhaps a single, solitary picture tucked away in a dusty box somewhere. It's happy and sad, necessary and unfortunate, and definitely the best thing that The Ex and I could have done for ourselves. This Valentine's Day, I will not only be toasting the final repairs made to the canyons in my heart, but I will also be marvelling at my own willingness to have turned right around and given it away again. To have thrust it - whole and perfect, with a strong, eager beat - so very undelicately into the hands of another. To love so fiercely that it chokes me.
Completely and totally exhilarating.