Nobody said it would be easy. I was anticipating the worst which is why I had to discipline myself to keep moving forward when I first met Martin in Ireland 7 months ago. But this time around it’s been 24 days since Martin left and I’m not sure exactly when he’s coming back. This has been the hardest stint for me. Maybe because its getting so close. Maybe cause we are talking seriously about getting married. And what used to be a surreal thought is now becoming tangible and believable. He is moving here the beginning of August. In theory that is a short amount of time to wait, AND he is coming at some point to find an apartment to rent right before the Fourth of July. So you can all collectively roll your eyes at me now. But I can’t help it, I miss him.
Not that I’m a big math person but I did some thinking on how much we’ve seen each other over the past 7 months. And it is equivalent to spending two entire days together every single week since we met plus a one week vacation.
When this all started I could not wrap my head around the fact that he was English. I’m a typical American girl and most of my friends I met in high school. I had no idea that we would be able to surmount the distance between us as easily as we have. Thankfully he was determined and has been dedicated to spending the time and money needed to see each other face to face as often as possible. His sixth trip will be his final. And I KNOW I’ve said it before but think about those lyrics to the song we sang that first night we met in the Irish pub…
“Every place I go, I’ll think of you
Every song I sing, I’ll sing for you
When I come back, I’ll bring your wedding ring”
Freaky. That first night we laughed it off and kind of were almost embarrassed during that part of the song. Little did we know.
I was afraid of our cultural difference too. Before I really knew him, I imagined the typical English stereotypes and wondered if that would bother me. And for the record he DOES embody some of them! He drinks with his pinky unfurled. He is a dainty eater. He is incurably polite and goes out of his way to extend himself in conversation. BUT – He is not distant, rigid, formal, or private. SORRY…they’re just stereotypes!
He says, funnily enough, Friday week, and knackered. Sometimes he is difficult to understand. But mostly I get him.
He says, “Are you having fun? Yeah?” Now my son says “yeah” at the end of every question. “Hey mom, are we going to McDonald’s? Yeah?” haha.
He says, “Hi, Are you okay?” when he meets people. They kind of look at him funny like, “What? Don’t I look okay to you?” but he just says that like we say “how are you?” Funny.
A word he still can’t say in American is garage. He noticeably flinches when I say, “I’m pissed” cause it means drunk where he’s from. And for that matter he doesn’t get it when I announce, “I have to pee.” He wonders aloud why I have to tell people what I’m going to be doing in the loo when it is fairly obvious anyway. I can’t really explain it. He has never heard of the term bumbershoot. The entire time I lived in Seattle I thought it was the English term for umbrella (I was wrong) the term in an American invention. He calls them…um…umbrellas.
The biggest obstacle is not the 6,000 miles but the 8 hours difference. I am going to sleep when he is waking up and I’m waking up in the middle of his afternoon. Typically he is setting his alarm for 6:00 AM and I’m staying up til 1:30 AM. It will be nice to be in the same time zone soon.
But honestly I would not have changed any of it. Except maybe getting him a mac so he had a more reliable computer 😀 I’ve loved all of it. I will love watching the World Cup with him via Skype on Saturday and eating my fish and chips when England beats us. I will love remembering back to these precious days when all we had was words.
Still cherishing every moment and every single day. But I miss him.