Me. Already planning. Wheels turning. Picturing autumn . . . walks in the leaves, the smell of cider, apple picking, real Halloween. Summers on the lake, parties in the backyard, teaching Leslie to water ski. Leslie starting high school with old kindergarten buddies and her sister/buddy, Emma. Christmas with real snow. Home.
Now, a hiccup. Bret has cold feet. Freezing, really. How will he start a new business in a climate where even the big guys are going bankrupt? Will the move be disastrous for us financially? He's losing sleep. We're talking big bags under the eyes loss of sleep. He's asking us to reconsider.
Leslie is too much like me. Already in Michigan in her head. Planning how she and Emma will meet downtown for coffee. Planning high school in a place she knows and loves. The heart wants what it wants. We are heartbroken.
Today I drove around looking for a place to move if we have to stay here. I found myself sobbing. I don't care where we move. I don't want to be here. I was already gone . . .