

The hardest moments are at the end of the party.
The early exits, feeling premature, begin a depletion like the slow leak from a tire that’s run over a screw.
The hesitant breaking away from a conversation that had laughter and connection, but is now missing something like the flavor of gum that has been chewed too long.
The air in the room gets heavier with the hour.
The host, once cheery pride that things went so well, now fatiqued as the focus turns to cleaning up the dishes and the spot of food dropped on the carpet.
The silent nudge, “time to go” to the oblivious spouse lost in banter that won’t quite finish.
The guest, unaware of the turn, opens the bottle of Cabernet they brought and wanted to taste at some point, leaving them to linger, conspicuously sipping as others head for the door.
The proposal of future plans as a salve to ending the evening.
The weary smiles, hugs and waves as the coats are loaded with the after glow into the car for the trip home.
The surprising emptiness when the hosts close the door a final time.