Sunday, January 09, 2011

Alone Again, Unnaturally

If my previous posts haven't been clear, for the last three months, I've had my fabulous girl with me. We wined, we dined, we marathoned Buffy and Smallville, an excellent use of our time. We went to L.A. for Thanksgiving, we spent Christmas with my family, we passed out candy for Halloween, kinda, and we went all over the Bay Area.

And yet, it felt like we did absolutely nothing. As if she got here the day before, and then I go and put her on a plane last night.

I assume that's how living life in perfection boils down to; you never notice the passage of time, and the second you try to take stock, the hours and days turned into months and years.

Ruth and I have been doing the long distance thing for three+ years, and you would think that by now, it would be easier to be apart. Unfortunately, it's not the case. It is in fact, the exact opposite.

It's as if you mended your heart, and it heals, and all too soon, you have to rip it in half again and put it on a plane on coach, doped up on NyQuil, telling it you will see it in a couple of months amongst tears.

I highly recommend the experience, at least once in your life, just so you can miss that amazing person in your life.

It's day one of not having her with me. I woke up strangely, I've eaten askewed, and I went to see a bad movie.

This is obviously not conducive to my ability to function. I'll get my footing again I. A couple of days, in the meantime, I'll stumble along in this stupor of missing my wife.

Happily, of course, cause it's the ultimate reminder of how amazing she is for me.

- This post took longer than it should have, cause I douched it on my iPad.

Location:San Pablo Towne Center,San Pablo,United States

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I want to say the time will fly by, because it probably will, but right now it feels like an eternity til I'll see you again.

You are my all, my husband, if I could will you here, you'd be by my side already.

And FUCK YOU I'm eating dinner at 3.20, THIS IS YOUR FAULT.