*Peeks head around corner at the universe to see if it's still trying to kick me in the face*
^ that right there is about how raw I am feeling right now. And honestly, I know I have it good. I really shouldn't even complain. Yet I do, because my normally happy-go-lucky existence is turned on its head. My bad may be someone else's pretty good, and another person's worst-day-ever, so I guess it's all relative. Right? That's what I thought. Thanks for agreeing with me, inter-webs. You're always good for a laugh, to share everything with, and in times like this, to find an ear that is listening and agreeable to everything I type.
I guess I am sort of stream-of-consciousness writing at the moment. I probably just need to get words out on paper, or screen as it is, and out of my head to make some sense of things. Bare with me if I jump around more than usual, or if I make no sense. You should see the inside of my brain, it's not pretty.
OK, where did we leave off? Wow, 3 weeks ago, when I thought I was stressed. Hah! I laugh at that Adrian now. She had no idea.
So stage 1 of our move is complete. Billy and I drove out to Austin last week and got him settled at a friend of mine from high school's little sister's house. I know, right? Can these connections get any more complicated? Well, I am just happy B has a place to stay with a friendly housemate and a puppy dog to keep him company. Granted, the dog keeps leaving him poopy surprises, but at least she's a warm furry body to cuddle with when he's missing his fur babies. Ailish, the housemate, is 24 and owns her own house. Blows my "born and raised in expensive California" mind. {Insert random segue}Oh, there's a condo across the street from my apartment that just went on the market. It's 2 bed/1 bath, and roughly 1,000sf, and the asking price is $349,000. Um, guys, I don't mean to rub it in or anything, but my beautiful new HOUSE, at 3 bed/2 bath + an office, garage, 1,800sf and only 8 years old was bought at $193,000. That is one thing I will never look back at California and miss when I am snuggly settled into my fabulous red brick house in Texas.
Speaking of the house, we close anywhere between September 30 {says the Realtor} and October 4 {says the lender}. The lender is being a giant pain in my bum, but I think that's their job. Complicating the already tedious job, is my printer that decided to break down last week, just when I absolutely needed to print, scan and send in loads of important documents. The business center at my apartment complex is lacking a scanner, so I had to go to Office Max and use their professional printing services to print out some letters, then scan everything onto a skateboard USB stick I had with me. I felt like such a dork, and was cursing my beautiful Canon printer that is currently a large and unresponsive paperweight. I feel like we are getting so close to the end, and can almost call ourselves first time homeowners. I am already over zealously jumping ahead to the decorating part, when I know I need to cool my jets and take it slow, see how finances work out once we are officially closed. Yeah right, I just want to fun stuff!
The joy of that thought is very short lived when I think of the 1,700 miles currently separating Billy and I. You guys, B and I have been together for 9 years now. At most, we have spent maybe a few days to a week apart, and probably have seen each other every day since. I realize how lucky I am to have this be the case, and doubly lucky to think that I married my best friend, whom I absolutely adore and really enjoy spending time with.
Which makes being apart so much worse. {cue heart ripping from chest}
Of course I cried at the airport when B dropped me off last Friday, but I pulled it together. I mean, B is the one in the new city, with a new job, and doesn't know anything or anyone around. I got to come home to everything normal. Same job, same apartment {albeit full of boxes and my stuff in disarray}, same family and friends and fur babies. How could I possibly let myself wallow in the sadness that comes with being apart from my other half, my literal soul mate {which I never believed in until I met Billy}?
I was strong all weekend, even though the house was too quiet, and I got a little stir crazy with no one but my animals to talk to. As you have probably guessed if you don't know me IRL, I am super high energy, extremely bubbly, a happy little chatterbox to anyone who will listen. So it's tough to not have anyone to talk at. Facebook and Instagram are getting spammed with everything I am up to, and I feel bad for probably annoying people with my constant stream of social media whoring. Billy is usually the first line of defense against my ramblings and takes the brunt of my energy, diluting me for the rest of the world to handle. Not having him here means everyone suffers.
I was resolutely humming along, forcing myself to try to be normal even though B isn't here, thinking it was just gonna get easier eventually, when BAM, I am hit by something so small and stupid that it shouldn't have mattered, but ended up kicking me in the face and making me break.
I couldn't open a jar.
Never a problem when my Hulk strength hubby is around! He opens even the tightest of jars with ease. That thought even passed through my mind as I struggled, and then immediately dissolved into ugly tears when I realized he wasn't around to help me out. Everything hit me then. The distance. Not being able to see him. Not having his smell around me in bed at night, or his cologne wafting through the bathroom when he leaves in the morning. No one to cuddle into, hug, kiss, no beard for me to scratch and rub my face against. I may have sat on the floor and let the tears take me for a moment. Since then I have had an edge of sadness permeating every aspect of my life. I can function as usual, I am even pretty happy, but there is just something that hugs the perimeter and feels cold and abrasive and quite uncomfortable. Like your cute bikini after a day at the beach. It's not so cute when it's wet, full of sand and chafing uncomfortably.
The effed up part of this is I feel so stinking guilty for being sad! The rational part of my brain says it's perfectly normal and acceptable, however, the wild part of my brain that does not subscribe to rational thought says I shouldn't be allowed to feel guilty because I am not the one in a new situation. Try struggling with those subconscious demons.
BUT! I am working on it.
I am rationalizing the sadness as expected and accepted.
I am telling the wild haired demon of guilt that it needs to take its opinion and shove it where the sun don't shine.
I am counting down the days until I see my love again {21!}.
I am looking forward to every phone call, text, and Skype date with Billy, trying to be present and attentive to the little time we have together.
I am embracing the social invites from my well-meaning friends, having dinner, hanging out, and talking, even though my sadness makes me lean toward extreme anti-social tendencies.
I am keeping myself busy.
I am reading a lot of good books {I am forcing you to go check out the Fever series by Karen Marie Moning, it is amazing, you will thank me!}.
I am being active even though the last thing I want to do is go for a run or ride my bike {thank you upcoming duathlon for keeping me going!}.
I am indulging in dessert every day, even multiple times a day! That last bit may not be the best way to handle stress and sadness, but boy does it make it easier when you are hopped up on a tummy full of sugar!
So that's where I am at, in the most honest version of events I can type. It's not pretty, but I am also not completely shattered.
If you have coping techniques for being apart from a loved one, send them my way!