Here I sit, about 26 hours til my flight back home, and I’m letting myself get all conflicted about it.  Simply put: I don’t want to go.  These past coupla weeks have been so nice, so fun, so comfortable that I just don’t want to leave it and be put into waiting again.  I don’t want to be boxed back in behind phonecalls and IM boxes.  I don’t want to look to the sky all wistfully, waiting for “the day”.  I want to keep looking up wistfully on the back porch, waiting for the hour.  The minute when he’ll be home again, so I can kick off my shoes and curl up for a nap while listening to him breathe.

It’s 2:22.  Same wish I’ve been wishing since I got down here.  I wish he’d follow me home soon…

That would be fine, knowing that it might be sooner rather than later.  Sooner rather than Spring Break.  I know the reasoning behind that is to allow time for more savings and so I can have a full week to move in and get settled into this glorious and shiny new LIFE we’ll be building together.  I know it’s sensible, reasonable, practical, what have you. But knowing how slowly the last three weeks between tgiving and xmas went… how horrible the seven week stretches were…

It has to be done.  But I’m not going to pretend to be happy about it.  I’m not going to pretend that it’ll go by quickly and painlessly.  Not this time.  I’m generally always happy to keep on the sunny side and know that good things are well worth waiting for, but that’s just a load of shit that I’m not even going to entertain.  This is going to suck.  It’s going to suck hard and hurt.

Where, if I just stayed… if I could just… stay…

I’d have to put a pause on my education again, for at least a year until I gained resident status.  And a few other cons, but that being the biggest one. And while I want to say I don’t care, I do.  I’ve already waited a good long while on that front, til I gathered the nerve and resources to go after it… I don’t want to wait any longer on it.  And he cares about it, too.  Putting that on hold would make us both mighty unhappy.

So what it’s down to is picking one unhappiness over the other, really.  *chortle*

I’ll catch the damn flight.  I’ll get back, get settled, start classes.  Start packing up.  Secure an apartment.  Reserve flight to meet him down here for the roadtrip up to Lexington.  Maybe it won’t be so bad.  Maybe we’ll luck out and have a weekend between now and then, however short and teasing it may be.

Maybe.

Right now, I just wish he’d get home so I can bury my face in his neck.