The night Miles and I packed up the end of our belongings and hit the road, headed toward Wisconsin, Jason and DJ volunteered to help load the U-Haul.
Miles and I were powered by surprising stamina throughout the process. We were little energizer bunnies with all of the little details. I rapidly packed the rest of the kitchen, clothing, and computer gear before doing a quick clean up of the premises while the boys loaded the truck. It was a humid day, and we were all pretty wilted and hungry as the process completed. I took one last garbage bag to the dumpster, and Miles followed with another. We didn't end up having as much to feed the dumpster as we originally thought, as DJ found many a treasure in our trash (Including the industrial-strength [and sized] roll of shrink wrap along with the wealth leftover of bubble wrap).
We threw our bags into the dumpster and it hit: the melancholy. Miles looked at me and I looked at him, and we knew that each other had the same sense of finality, sadness. It is hard saying goodbye, and especially to the place where we fell in love, wed. He threw his arm around my shoulders, and mine curved around his back as we walked back with slow, synchronized steps. "So...this is happening. How do you feel?" I looked up to him, and my eyes seemed to answer for me as he replied quietly, "Yeah, me too."
"I've missed small town, USA...but leaving this place almost hurts." He agreed with a nod and his arm tightened around me, drawing me closer...and our steps became slower, shorter. We saw our "moving crew" watching us from the open back door, probably wondering why the heck we were lollygagging when we promised them dinner...but nothing could steal that moment. Nothing could untangle our hearts from the overwhelming feeling of security in one another amidst a world gone mad and unfamiliar.