Here we go...

"Is this really the end?" I asked him.

"It's a beginning." he replied.

Not at all the answer I wanted, but I suppose it's true enough. So here I am, in a new town, cut away from my love, about to embark on a big new challenge -- getting my PhD.

I'm scared.

I'm lonely.

I wonder if I will have the time, or inspiration to cook anymore. I cooked quite a bit in the past few months, things from Thai Mango Chicken to Fish Tacos to Bruschetta to Pots du Creme to Herbed Beer Bread. I had lots of free time, since my technician job was (mostly) 8 to 5 and rarely required me to bring work home. And I wanted to make R happy. I came to the realization that I didn't particularly "love to cook" -- instead I cook because I love. And now he's not here for me to cook for... my meals have become pretty dull -- yogurt and a handful of grapes. Pita and hummus. I'm not trying.

Tonight will be my first attempt at cooking without him. I'll be making a mushroom-tomato pasta for myself, my roommate, and another incoming Zoology student.

I hope it turns out well.