302 Days

That’s how long my boyfriend and I were geographically apart and as I am writing this post, my boyfriend’s done with the first and on the second of a total of four flights – the next one will end in Europe already. Fortunately he didn’t travel via Chicago or the North-East of the States, so he wasn’t affected by the snow storm. Each stroke of the keyboard means he is a little closer to me. Most likely, today will be the last day of living alone for… well, perhaps not for the rest of of my life, but at least for years to come. It’s an important step not to be taken lightly, but one we are both ready for.

We already said goodbye yesterday, because we knew it would be difficult for him to find the time this morning, and I was rather busy this afternoon too with trips to the supermarket and farm shop. For some people, it might sound really dull and more like a chore, but I do enjoy buying groceries for the two of us. As opposed to most household chores, which I dislike at best – and in some cases loathe -, shopping for food and cooking makes me feel comfortable. Cooking is a creative process, followed by a social interaction, namely having dinner together. My idea of happiness is a Friday evening spent together on the sofa, after dinner, watching TV. I reckon people who turn away in horror at the idea of such a boring night have no clue how valuable the simple peacefulness of it is – especially to someone who suffered from depression and anxiety.

There was hardly a day during the last ten months when I didn’t imagine what it would be like to see him again at the airport. I’m not usually comfortable with public displays of affection, but just as with our tearful goodbye, this is going to be an exception of the rule. I’ll probably smile and wave like a maniac as soon as I see him, just to throw myself at him as soon as he’s through the gate…

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