13 August 2006

The Anxiety of Flying

Forgive me for my absence. I've been busy being lazy with my love, since he came back from tour. It's been nice. There is this incredible dreaminess that surrounds us. A brilliant honeymoon vibe that only comes with time between you and your lover. It's been pouncetastic! The only sad thing is is that I am the one leaving in a few days and for a few weeks. I hate leaving, even if it's only temporary.

It's not like I am that dependant on my partner. Sincerely, I adore being around him. I like knowing he is in the other room, while I am curled up in bed and reading a book. I enjoy bringing him green tea in the middle of the afternoon.

Ever since the beginning of our relationship, I have been full of guilt. We had a long distance relationship and that's tough. You have your life back home and he has his own life. You have to work to bring it together, if you are really serious about it. In the middle of all that working to bring it together - there is a whole lot of time apart. You wait for months to be together and it feels so painfully long. You finally get to see each other and the time sadly flies. I hated parting at the airport - I used to find that incredibly romantic until I was serious about someone - because I felt low for leaving him, for convincing him a long distance relationship can work. I'm glad he believed me because it has worked. Now, we're an old couple!

Now, I am far from family and friends. I feel guilty that I have abandoned them, even after two years. I feel guilty to not visit as much as I like to. I feel guilty that they are paying for my flight. Once I arrive, I'm fine. I'm happy and a little overwhelmed to be home. But I end up feeling guilty for leaving my partner. He understands, this is my home and I have to see family. I still feel incredibly bad for leaving him. When I leave home to go back to my partner, I feel guilty for abandoning my family again. What the hell is wrong with me!? I'm just a tense ball of guilt!

Flying scares me now. I fear something would happen between Home A and Home B. Along with my feelings of guilt, come truly grim and gloomy thoughts of disaster. Can I ever allow myself to relax? Chances are, nope! Now, there are restrictions on travel. I can abide by them with slight annoyance. Every time I fly, I have to remove my belt and shoes. My carry-on is constantly being pawed at. I'm glad safety is up and the airports are taking extra precautions. I have to say, banning liquids kind of pisses me off. Like I said, I am happy to abide by the rules. It's annoying that it's come to this point. It's sad that that small child cannot take his or her bottle of juice on the plane, just because some asshole has no problem with blowing up buildings with bombs attached to their own kids. I'm at this point where I just don't fucking care anymore. These people are more than welcome to blow up themselves and others in their OWN country. I'm not talking the country that they immigrated to either. Okay, I'll just say it already - in the middle east. I just don't care. This is getting personal - they are now fucking around with my beauty routine. I can no longer bring a tube of lipstick on a plane because of these fucking assholes. And if the airport goes through my checked bags and throw out my $50 bottle of Biotherm Source Therapie, I'm going to be pissed. If any of my expensive cosmetics melt or are destroyed or thrown out - I'm going to declare war.

In all seriousness, I will abide by the rules. It sucks but it's a minor inconvenience. It's to make our country safer. The sad thing is what's next?

I used to love to fly but it fills me with severe panic now and I can't even bring my homeopathic remedies on board to calm me down.


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03 August 2006

He Won!

Late Monday night, my partner returned home! Good grief, what a lengthy time apart! Needless to say, I am glad that he is around again. I was on pins and needles all night. It felt like we were dating again and it was all shiny new. I got all prettied up, even though he was scheduled to arrive in the middle of the night. I didn't care. I just wanted him to see me again, looking fresh and dolled up even though the first thing he wanted to do was take a shower with me. So, at least he saw me dolled up for a good fifteen minutes!

He came home, tired and furry-faced. I kept staring at him, as though I have never seen him before. What a handsome man, he takes my breath away even after three years! We talked for a bit and got him settled in. It was nice to sit and talk with him - and not just over the telephone. Damn, did I ever miss him.

Clearly, he missed me too. We showered together and there were plenty of passionate kisses between us. Even though being apart sucks big time, time apart is often good. It helps you realize that all those little aggravations that come with living with someone are just little meaningless things. You appreciate your partner, with a little time off and space. You are more grateful to have that person in your life. I think it benefited me to have a long distance relationship with him. I like to think that I never take him forgranted, though I'm certain that we all do in some way and at some time or another. I remember how much it sucked to live in two different cities. It wasn't easy but it taught us to value one another and enjoy each other. Even with the simple things, like holding your lover's hand. We certainly enjoyed one another the night he came back from tour. Wink, wink. Knudge, knudge.

I'm glad to say that he won. Aunt Flow lost the race! Yippee! For once, my body worked with me and not against me! We got in some time to get "reacquainted" and the next day I got my period. At least I got a little action before I was stricken with "the curse". Speaking of action, last night we put on some doowop and kissed. I find that kind of music especially fun to make out to. It makes me feel all fuzzy romantic inside. It makes me dizzy and want to kiss and be kissed. Drunk with love - Le sigh!

Yes, everything feels great and back to normal. We've been talking a lot and enjoying each other's company. We have been eating bowls of ice cream between kisses. I mentioned how one day I would like to be called his wife and he didn't run away with sheer terror. Okay, actually I asked to be called his Wife-o. Haha...I love words with an O at the end of them.


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