On the opposite bank

I write this as I wait for him to log in. Today is the last day of my binge.

It's not that we spent all of the past week together; he had other obligations after all. But he gave me all his free time, and even some of his sleep time. Before he met me, he rarely logged in. But he was inworld every day this past week, even if only for a short while to say hi.

I am overwhelmed. I go into surgery tomorrow, and, at a time when I most needed someone, he was here for me. Going out of his way to be here with me. To indulge me, a stranger.

Our conversations have always been lighthearted and flirty. He is gentle with me and his consistency amazes me. No drama. No heavy emotions. And yet I wonder. We never exchanged "I love you"'s, but if he didn't love me, would he have done this much for me?

I don't have the words to tell him how much this means to me. All I could say was that I really really appreciated it, and even that felt insufficient.

After today, he would not be exclusive to me anymore, because he couldn't be here often and because we are both fiercely independent spirits. But we remain lovers. And most certainly, we remain friends.

But the strange thing is that I'm crying, because it feels as though I'm losing something precious. We've crossed the river and we stand on the opposite bank. We'll walk together for a little while longer, but I know that our paths would slowly diverge. And that is what saddens me.