Another fun, love, and happy-filled weekend down, and hopefully only one or two more times to go before I move there permanently. Words can’t describe the excitement and happiness I feel when I think of that reality.
That being said… Can I just say that I’m so sick of this shit? Pardon the language. Getting up at 3AM to get Arty to the airport before 4AM ($40+ taxi ride every time because I don’t drive. Convenient public transportation is a double edged sword… sigh), then waiting til 5AM for the trains to start running so that I can start my insanely lonely 1.5 hour long ride home. It feels like a march for the broken hearted.
Time speeds up when we’re together and our days go by in the blink of an eye; then annoyingly slows to a crawl the moment we’re apart. And I don’t get to see him again until August… but at least we already have plans to do so. We just have to buy the tickets when it gets a bit closer to the date.
I can’t even put any more thoughts into this post. The first few days are the god damn worst.
I’ve got the beginnings of a poem in my mind. I’ll see if I can make something worthy of sharing.