5.

I left yesterday. 

I loaded the horses in the trailer before dawn, as my mom stood in the doorway crying. She said Don’t go when I hugged her, in direct contrast to the other day when she asked why I was even there. I knew another part of her wanted me to leave.

I stopped by my girlfriend’s apartment on the way out of town to say goodbye. She cried. And I finally did, too, as I raced the sun’s sprawling reach across the prairie. I cried at this most obvious sign yet that everything was changing, I cried at leaving the best chance for a healthy relationship I’d ever had, I cried at the realization that maybe my mom was upset because she couldn’t be sure she’d remember me when she saw me again.

But I couldn’t stay there.