Last night I ate mango habanero salsa and chiplettes (the tiny chip remnants from the bottom of the bag) from a bowl with a spoon, and my heart broke a little.

Mango habanero salsa never breaks my heart, but May 9 did.

I was fine until I got a hug from LD. Was ok until I picked up my tote and dropped off my name tag. Held it together until I reached the parking lot. Until that moment, I’d been in denial that this summer isn’t just a brief vacation.

So now I’m awake at 4:30am, nursing a heart that’s blue.

Work is generally a drawn out diversion that simply funds my next dream adventure. But when my 12-week assignment here in Antigo stretched to 14, then another 10 after a hiatus, then another 13… Before I knew it, it was one year. One year getting to know some of the most authentic and driven people I’ve met, a year that I grew into because of their warmth – and repeated requests that I stay forever.

Through volleyball spikes and hip bumps, mini steaks and midnight bowling, snow storms and patient care, taco bars and costume parties… I’ve lost a piece of my heart to Antigo. ❣️

So this morning as I eat Cheerios with watered-down almond milk (terrible idea) and a quesadilla with mango habanero salsa (I’m moving, and my efforts to empty the pantry have been fruitful), I smile through the heartache; because only good-byes – the farewells to those who have shown you love – only the good-byes hurt.

Thanks for the ride, ALH. I’ll see ya when the road curves round again.