Cold and Warmth

Monday morning was a blur, but we managed to get out of bed by 11...I got some work done and then we managed to leave the apartment and did some walking around in the cool City air, grabbing lunch at about 2:30 at Serafina on Madison at 79th, walking through the Gates in Central Park, and cavorting in general. Between window shopping and calls to my office and to clients, we managed to get through the Park without getting hit by a single snowball (although I was tempted to throw a couple myself). And more importantly we saw the Gates up close, and took a roll's worth of disposable camera snapshots. As we discussed, neither of us knows what Christo and Jeanne-Claude meant other than to erect a series of orange cloth/fabric flags on steel platforms; but seeing it up close, and stretching throughout the Park, was pretty interesting.

As the darkness approached we emerged from the Park and cabbed to Bergdorf Goodman's on 57th, and I was hoping to stop into the office to check on some paperwork I was expecting by fax. As my other half poked around Bergdorf's home collection, I checked in with a client who advised me he'd e-mailed rather than faxed me paperwork, so I didn't bother hitting the office; instead we walked from Bergdorf's to Takashimaya, where she got stuffed animals for each of the little monkeys -- aka Sammy and Cole, her nephews -- and then we walked along Madison and happened into Davidoff for a peek or two at their stuff: humidors, cigars, Cartier and assorted other fancy-schmancy stuff. Amazingly, we managed to get into another cab only having spent less than fifty dollars aside from cab fare and lunch.

We got back to my place and napped for a little, then made our way back downtown for a final visit to Balthazar; escargot in garlic butter and onion soup gave way to Duck Confit and Roast Turbot, and finally, warm chocolate cake with white chocolate ice cream. Holy shit. Between that and the token celeb sighting -- Tim Burton and Helena Bonham-Carter sneaking out the front door -- we had our fill of food and drink. By the time we finally got back to my apartment, we were ready for bed. A half-dozen Pottery Barn currant candles, some jazz and our proximity kept us smiling into the wee, wee hours of the morning.

Reality set in this morning as the alarm clock pulled me back out of bed and onto the scale. I was shocked to see I'd gained only a half-pound, considering all the good stuff we've been consuming -- and then I realized we've had plenty of late-night workouts and, thus, I wasn't as surprised as much as looking forward to a permanent change in our mutual activity level ;-)

Reality onward, in and out of the shower and out the door. Making my way to the office, I punched out a few letters and some e-mails to clients, then made my way downtown for filings and other assorted attention to details.

I came back uptown to spend a few minutes with my other half, who had already finished packing, and -- like that -- we were standing outside my building, waiting for the taxi that would separate us. As I valiantly tried to explain to her, the bittersweet goodbyes aren't farewell, and we were counting the days -- literally -- until her next visit to NYC or mine to San Francisco. With a few kisses, a few tears and a smile, she was gone.

Even though I didn't say it out loud, we both were sad she had to leave, even if only for three weeks. And instead of us focusing on how happy we are and how perfectly we fit together, we both felt the pangs of missing each other only a few minutes after saying goodbye. I guess that's a good thing; I know I should be happy I've found someone so perfect for me and who I love and who loves me -- but right now I'm just sad she's on her way to a different time zone than me and I can't kiss her goodnight or when we wake up tomorrow. Instead of her breath on my neck and her hand on my shoulder, her perfume will surround me and remind me how much I miss her.

For all the warmth and the comfort in my crowded, cluttered apartment, it sure got cold in a hurry.