The Day (After) You Left

My head was heavy, waking up to a text he sent 3 hours prior. He just reached Abu Dhabi then, and would take his connecting flight to Paris in an hour. I checked my flight tracking app, and saw that he would reach Paris in 6 hours. I groaned. My head hurt.

There was a part of me that was willing to burn through my bank account to buy a last minute ticket to come with him on the night he left. As I said goodbye to him, maintaining my smile and over-the-top hand waving, my mind went through all the possibilities. Unfortunately, I was reminded that my passport was not with me. He disappeared into the departure hall, and I headed to the car, holding back my sadness before I was able to let all the tears spill out in the refuge of the driver's seat.

Having been with him in my city gave my system a total reset. It was hard to return to our habits prior to his visit to our famously-sunny-but-now-freakishly-rainy island. For almost 8 months, my mornings were his nights. I would usually catch him in my mornings, before he went to bed (late); or in my afternoons, when I'm having my tea break (or goûter, for the French) and him, starting work. We had a small window of opportunity per day where we are both awake, and an even smaller amount of time to communicate, given our 9 to 6 schedules.

So it's even more precious when we took the time to speak with each other, even if it's just a smattering of texts exchanged over the day. Sometimes, when things get too intense, we will put it on a list of "things to talk about on the next call". We don't have an actual, physical list. Which psycho does that? *Gathers my lists and papers in panic*

Most importantly, we make it work as much as we can, given our circumstances and the fact that neither of us has ever been in a long-distance relationship.

When the time difference was removed from the equation, it felt so damn good. And it was all taken away by one flight home.

The experience taught me one thing:

I grew up with this belief that if I chose to do something, I had no rights to complain about how difficult it is. I had to stick with it, whatever the circumstances. I was always berated if I tried to pivot when it gets too tough for me to handle.

But we're humans and things are going to get difficult - even the things we initially enjoy. It's okay to express that something is difficult, and still want to do it. And on the other hand, if it's too difficult to continue, it is okay to totally stop it.

Although I hope, no matter how hard it gets, we always have each other to keep us going. Sometimes, all we need is a little support from the ones we love.

Sometime after lunch, he sent me a text to let me know that his plane had landed safely in Paris. I exhaled a breath I was holding the entire morning, relieved to know that he was well on his way home.

The rain stopped, and the sun came out of hiding. The clouds parted, making way to a bright blue sky. I smiled.

We are only getting started.