There's a handful of things that I am really, truly bad at; drawing immediately comes to mind, as does the ability to have a poker-face. More abstractly, I am laughably terrible at demonstrating genuine enthusiasm, passion, or devotion to anything. I chalk this up to a massive fear of being let down--if I don't vocalize my excitement, then that somehow makes it less real, and therefore I won't be as deflated when whatever it is doesn't pass muster. Try surprising me sometime with news of something awesome (like an all-expense paid road trip to follow LBC on a nation-wide tour *cough cough*) and I guarantee that I will either seem mildly pleased, or any sort of histrionics I produce would get me kicked out of acting school.
It might come as a surprise to you, Interested Party, but I've been in a relationship for over four years. I can promise you that I'm still occasionally taken aback by the passage of time and wonder to myself how we've made it this far without breaking up at least once or growing apart. Having been 450 miles away from Fuzzy for the last year with very little scratchy-face time has given me a lot of quiet hours of reflection. While I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell you exactly why or how we started our journey together, I have had time to find the reasons, though perhaps not the words. Words would be handy for making a convenient list that I could post on my wall for days when I get frustrated over missed calls or postponed return dates, but alas, photographic representations of his cute face have to suffice.
Last weekend I was down in Kentucky, and there was one of those moments that I just took a deep breath and vowed I would hold on to. It wasn't anything special, really. We were out to dinner, waiting an absurdly long time for what turned out to be delicious fried pickles, just enjoying our night out. We were happy, he was laughing, and we were together. I don't get to see my mountain man often these days, and having the ability to take notice of a small moment in time where we were simply coexisting and content has been a tremendous help in my not going crazy over the past year. Despite the angst it caused me, I am so ridiculously proud of that boy and what he's been doing. My life over the last few years has been made richer because of his presence, and I know that we are two very lucky people.
I love him. I miss him. I'm glad he will be home soon. I know this has all been absurdly schmoopy for this here blog, but I think it's about time that I started loosening my death grip on my feelings and letting them have visitations with other people. They need to be socialized.