I have become so fearful of changes to the "plan" that I can honestly say part of me refuses to believe that at this time next month (most likely a little sooner) he'll be back! In true, is this really happening, form we will not know for sure when this oh-so-magical date will be until months end (also known as what what could be days, or hours, before he heads home). But really, at this point who cares. Its so close I can feel it; I feel it in the speed the weeks pass by, I feel it when I'm scrounging for boxes to pack my apartment up, I feel it in the quiet night that turns into a new day, I feel it in the ever so slight well of tears I feel when I just think about him coming through that door.
Its coming.
So, naturally, my response is to do everything I can to not think about it. Staying busy is what keeps the days moving; the rhythm of days which keeps that calendar advancing. Its what keeps me from not exploding in anger or melting down in tears when I think about the phone calls I can count on one hand and the Skype (singular) session in the last three months. Staying busy so I don't have time to think about how twisted this new routine is. Staying busy to focus on the inevitable, and only the inevitable. The final outcome.
Knowing me, I can't just do anything half-assed. I can't just be busy, I have to be consumed. So what's helping me stay so preoccupied?
A trip to Connecticut this weekend is next, to spend some much needed time at the beach to catch some rays and see my sister and extended family. We used to see my Mom's family three times a year; Thanksgiving, Fourth of July and this beach getaway, the last week in July. As we've grown older its been narrowed down to just Thanksgiving, so its extra special that I get to spend four glorious days there.
Oh, hey--I'm moving! I've been keeping my boyfriend posted on the status of our move and I'm sure he thinks I'm a bigger neurotic pot of crazy than I ever have been before. Not only am I collecting boxes, attempting to pack things I won't use in the next two weeks (aka nothing) and trying to purge everything in my apartment that won't make the cut for the move, but I have also taken the word "details" to a freakish new height. I've so far set up all of our utilities, completed all of the change of address documents, set up turn-on appointments for gas, electric and cable and carefully outlined every document and step necessary for new license plates and ID. Oh, hello anal. But the way I look at it, the more I get out of the way the less to worry about during the actual move.
Who doesn't love some help moving? My parents have so generously offered to help me move that first weekend in August which should hopefully be my last weekend sans-boyfriend. While moving will be a pain in the ass, its a great excuse to see them and show off my new digs.
And my newest distraction? (Insert shameless self plug), I've entered my boyfriend and I in a contest to send us to the Caribbean for 5 days. Long shot? Yes. Distraction, yes. Why not? Originally a friend sent me the link because it was a "beach blogger" opportunity; what could be a better way to marry my two favorite past times? Sign me up! When I read the requirements it was actually a beach blogger for a "retreat to romance" package for a deserving couple. After careful consideration I decided, yes, we still fit the requirements. I mean, is this blog not evidence of what we've been through this past year? Hopefully my blog entry can get us all the way to paradise. 20% of my final score to move onto the top ten depends on votes, so if you haven't please visit and vote for us here:
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