I consider myself rather independent. Bob traveled a lot for work, so I was on my own a lot. Before we had kids, while I was still working, I traveled, as well. Even when we dated, we were very independent from each other. We had separate interests and didn't spend all of our free time together. It worked well for us. I think we needed it that way, especially because we met at such a young age and still had quite a bit of growing up to do. It gave us room to do that.
We didn't LIKE being apart so much as we accepted that it was part of our lives. We made it work.
Fast-forward to being a widow. I was alone all the time. Granted, the kids were there, but that's not the same. That's not your spouse. That's not the person you share your life with, the ins and outs of your decisions, the ups and downs of your days, and the love that keeps you going. Alone.
That was hard. I reached out to the community who'd supported me through Bob's illness. I reached out to my friends online. I reached out to the people who were available at all hours when I needed them. I reached out to the people who were with me via Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr when I was in hospital rooms, and waiting rooms, and chemo infusion centers.
Thankfully, the planet operates around-the-clock. I slept very little in those early weeks and months. Alone sucks. Friends are great for alone. They can get you over the hump, but it's still not the same as having SOMEONE.
Now, I have SOMEONE. We have each other. We aren't alone anymore. It's one of the best things about being together. It's one of our favorite things. Unlike any other relationship either of us has had, we hate being away from each other for a second. It's so not me, but it feels so right.
There's just one small problem with this. On occasion, we have to be apart. Can I just tell you how monumentally this sucks? LIKE A HOOVER. I feel like an infant who hasn't developed object permanence and just dropped her binky out of her crib. WHERE DID IT GO??? IS IT COMING BACK???
I'm honestly considering having my arms converted into webbing so I can become a human backpack. I'm certain the TSA wouldn't notice. I look a lot like a Timbuk2 bag from certain angles. I really do. Especially when I wear the right outfit.
Aw, fuck it. I'm gonna do some more laundry until his flight gets in. I like folding his clothes. Yes, I said laundry. On purpose. I swear. I've been taken over by aliens.