Leaving Disneyland

On Saturday I met my BF at the marina for breakfast, before we set out on a sailing race. It was his millionth, my first. It was me, BF, and three other women who set out together for the very first time.
We practiced tacking, or turning the boat as fast as we could. We discussed the route, and BF discussed stuff with the experienced sailor, who was going to steer the boat while he helped us with the ropes (not called ropes BTW) and sails.
We set off, and made great time. At one point in during the race I started to feel myself getting sea sick. As that salty, wretched taste inched up my throat, we quickly had to act to turn the boat once again. As BF had assured me in the past, when you get busy while you are sailing the nausea subsides. It did.
We sailed in 3rd, but ended up being 7th. It was fun.
I liked being there.
I liked the competition.
I liked that the husband of one of our crew said she should not be on our boat, for "she would be looking at our ass the entire way" He looked at ours, for we were ahead of them the whole time.
I liked how close you get to the boats during a race. I like the quick pace. I love the comradarie of working together to get to a goal. I dug it, plus I was with my love, an added bonus.
Later we celebrated our finish, complete with a barbeque dinner, a live band and dancing. Even and argument with BF later, it was a wonderful evening. (we resolved it)
We woke in the morning, had breakfast, and layed around talking and watching a movie.
I did not think about being a mom.
About the money I never seem to have enough of.
About work, or anything that presses on my mind during the week.

Like keeping busy to make the nausea subside during a sail, my mind was occupied with activities in the moment, and it was glorious and fun, and never ever long enough. I could talk to BF, watch a new movie, snuggle, and a wish that we could do this every day.
I remember hearing a story where my sister started crying on the way home from Disneyland. SHe told me our shocked mother asked her "honey? what is wrong?" and she answered "I was having such a good time, I did not want to leave."

I told BF that I never want to leave his house, for it is like coming home again after a vacation.

Yesterday while we layed together watching a great movie, BF said "this is the way Sundays are supposed to be."
Later, when the movie was over, and we got up from the couch, BF said "the vacation is over."
Soon thereafter I had to leave, and relieve the babysitter. I cried all the way home.
Felt like my sister on the way home from Disneyland.
I did not want it to end.