This week feels like a throwback to my college years. Not because I’m staying up until 2am, sleeping ’til 10am, or spending the day in my sweatpants (I wish!), but because B and I are, once again, separated by a three-hour drive.
I’ve mentioned before that B and I did the long-distance thing from 2007-2010, while I went to school in Kirksville, MO and B resided at home in KC. I spent those three years dreading Sundays (when we’d go to our separate states) and living for Fridays (when we were finally reunited). Last night felt like one of the old Sundays. I made us dinner, we watched a couple episodes of Dexter… it was a nice night except for the omnipresence of dread for our goodbye.
I remember when I traveled abroad in Spain for an entire summer in 2008.
(Oh, oops! Those just slipped right in there.)
B and I had been dating a year at this time, and although we both knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience I couldn’t pass up, the distance was horrible. I’d never missed somebody so badly that it physically hurt, but I remember moments when the feeling was almost unbearable. It was the little things I missed. One day, after a month or so of being abroad, I realized I hadn’t been hugged since B dropped me off at the airport in KC. I don’t think another person had intentionally touched me in all that time–and don’t make this gross, I don’t even just mean in a sexual way. There’s something just sad about that.
It’s just a four-day conference in Wichita, KS. But my evenings don’t felt right without him. I’m just grateful he only travels once a year. I look at these young couples whose job require monthly travel (or even more often!) and I don’t know how they do it. Without B around, I just don’t feel right. He’s my “other half”. Heck, I even miss him when we’re both at work for the day!
Looking forward to Thursday…