I've begun to pack. The guitars are in their cases. Most of the books are in their
boxes. I've begun to look at things as objects to be moved, and I am figuring what will go where and how.

So it's begun. The journey. I have found that I have no real choice now. My passions have overcome me. My need.

Something happened last night which changed something. Something terrible. Faith's husband found out everything. Put succinctly, there was a major blowup. He got violent. Her shoulder was knocked out of joint. A battle royal, basically.

Faith is alright now, relatively speaking. We have talked. Some last night and some today. And things have been settled. Apparently, Paul (her husband) is going to give her a no contest divorce, which is what she wanted anyway, in exchange for her not pressing charges. So the marriage is officially over, I think.

Which, inevitably, brings me to another question. The “us” factor. Now, more than ever, the reality of this relationship is becoming apparent. We are going to look at a house while in St. Augustine. We are going to come back here sometime during the summer for a visit.

The operative word, of course, is “we.” She and I as one.

I think the finality of that arrangement has just occured to me. Not that I am frightened of it. Just surprised. I think somewhere in the back of my mind there was always the thought that this might turn out to be some cruel game. I had taken a “let's wait and see” attitude. And now that things have come to a head, it seems that our lives are entwined at last, or at least we are working on it.

I have been accepted. Totally. And without reservation. How can I offer any less?

So yes. I am moving. I will not remain there long, but there is an urgent need for independence. I have to know at least a taste of it before I wander off. And believe it or not, I think Mama is tickled. She looked at Faith's picture today and said “so this may be my future daughter-in-law.” I scoffed at the mention of marriage, but a month ago I would have scoffed at the idea of moving to Georgia or Florida, and right now that is something which I long to do.

Faith has even asked a question or two about children. What do I think of them? Have I ever thought of having them? I'm not saying that she was saying anything. Just rhat there was a moment where I was picking up stray thoughts from her. I mentioned, basically, that one reason I had never truly considered being a father was that I like older women, and most older women aren't exactly too eager to have others. I used her as an example. I said “you said yourself that you don't want to have any more children,” to which she replied “I said I don't with him,” meaning Paul.

So there's another thought, anyway.

I'm rambling now, so I see no real need in continuing. I'm somewhat tired. I'm drifting. There is a lot to do here, and yet I can do little until the apartment is rented and this idea is finalized. Until then, I can prepare as best I can, but there will be elements that I simply cannot bring together until this endeavor has journeyed from the land of hopes and dreams and into the land of reality.

And yet all the while I shall long for Faith. And life. And hope.