Southwest Virginia Blogs

The Boy and I had quite possibly the hardest weekend apart yet. On Saturday night, I got quite possibly the scariest message from him ever. It said “[My friend] committed suicide today. I don’t feel like talking right now.”

And we didn’t talk. And I didn’t sleep. I was up Saturday night, almost the entire night wishing he would call, but he didn’t. Then I spent most of the day at home yesterday waiting for him to call, but he didn’t. Last night I was taking cat naps, wishing the phone would ring. Finally, around 4 am, I was finally able to talk to him.

Right now, all I want to do is get on a plane and get to him. Unfortunately people are apparently relying on me to do so much at work this week that it would be next to impossible. I don’t really care though.

I don't know what it is about being in your mid-twenties and not married but I'm just ready to scream.  Over the past two days, I have been asked somewhere between 10 and 12 times when I am getting married. Now, let's put this in perspective.  I'm not single, but I'm not engaged.  I am living alone, but that does not make me alone.  Being unmarried after 25 is not the end of the world.  In fact, I'm proud of myself for all my accomplishments WITHOUT being married.  

I don't know why it bothered me so much this morning, but I was ready to scream at the women at my church.  I guess after all that has happened this week (which I have not blogged about for my own reasons, but the three people who know–me, the Boy, and Linds–are the only ones who currently need to know), I must be getting overly sensitive about this question.  I know that many people get married at 18 and stay married for life.  I also know that many more who get married at 18 get divorced within 5 years when they realize they gave up on a lot for their spouse.  I know that being in your twenties and unmarried is not a big deal. 

I don't know why old women don't understand that some things are more important at different times in peoples lives.  My goal was my education.  My second goal was being financially stable and able to take care of myself before marriage.  I've now reached both of those goals.  Does that mean I'm getting married this year?  Nope.  It just means now that those two things have been accomplished I will let myself get married in the future.  I'm in no hurry.  Why does everyone want to rush me?

The boy may be coming back to visit sooner than I thought.  He mentioned last night he has the opportunity to leave base for a couple of weeks and help a recruiter in the area.  He also said he would never consider doing it before, but he really misses me.  That makes a girl feel good. 

Or, as W says, STD-Day cause, let’s face it, those are probably going to be passed around a lot tonight.  I have to tell you guys, I hate Valentine’s day.  I think it’s gone way too commercial and is just another way for card companies and florists to make a ton of money and I would prefer my guy do sweet things randomly, not because a holiday tells him to.

That being said, I must admit, this was a good Valentine’s Day.   This morning, around 9 am, the receptionist called me to the front where waiting was a vase of red tulips.  Which not only means he remembered to order me flowers all the way from Alaska, but he also remembered that I don’t like roses and that one of my favorite flowers is the tulip (in case your wondering, the other is the daisy).  THEN I got an incredibly sweet email which almost made me cry (ok, maybe I did a little).  Plus I got all kinds of goodies from the secretaries and other random people.  I’m pretty happy for a Valentine’s Day.

I promise, more on the Enemy story will be posted later tonight.  I just wanted to share my actually happy Valentine’s Day since I haven’t had one of those in a long long time.

I’ve been asked by a few readers to tell how I met the boy. Because I’ve switched blogs a few times since we met (or, more accurately, re-met), I’m going to rewrite the story of our meeting (err…re-meeting).

My best friend could probably tell this story better, since she was there, but here goes. W (that’s the best friend) and I decided to go out to a bar one night in an attempt to curb boredom. It was in August and there wasn’t much else to do. So it’s a Saturday, we’re going to go have a few beers and then come home. We ran into another girlfriend, we’ll call her Jen, and were sharing a table when someone we all knew from YEARS ago walked in the door.

My exact comment to my best friend was this: “When did [the boy] get hot?” We had graduated high school together. Then I said I would be back. I went over to talk to him, but as I tried to talk with him, I was approached by two other guys. I thought both of them were with the boy. So I was nice to them and talked to them. The boy kind of smiled and shook his head and walked away when the other two were surrounding me (it really was quite the invasion of my personal space). Later, the boy told me he was getting pissed because he was hoping to spend time with me when I walked over.

Fast forward to the bar closing. I hadn’t gotten to talk to the boy and, quite frankly, I was pissed about that. So I did what any normal female would do. I invited him, and all his friends, back to my place with W, Jen and me. Safety in numbers, of course. We get to my house and the boy’s friends (one of which I find out was NOT there with him, but was just there) were still trying to get my attention. I got mad at one of them for letting my cat out of the house (that was quite the dramatic event…I was running through my neighborhood without shoes on trying to catch my cat). Finally, the one that wasn’t with the boy, let’s call him Jeff, went to sleep on my couch. Jen and one of the other guys, Jared, who was also her exboyfriend, went to sleep in my guest room. Another man went to sleep on my other couch. I found out later that man was Jared’s father (don’t ask, it was a strange strange night).

W was outside with the other guy who had been trying to get my attention and the boy went into my bedroom to lay down. So I did what any girl would do. I went and laid on my bed with him. We laid there talking and laughing for hours (we also dozed off a few times in these hours). The next morning he asked if we could go out before he was sent off. He’s in the Air Force and had orders to go to Alaska. We both kind of knew that it would be a date or two and that would be it.

Until the first date happened and neither of us wanted that night to end. And then the second date happened the next night. And again, neither of us wanted that night to end. Then the third date, the next night. The next morning, he had to leave.

That should have been the end of our relationship. He was moving 5000+ miles away by plane and would be closer to Russia than to me. That morning he told me that he knew he was leaving and he didn’t want to ask me to wait for him, but did I think I could possibly give something a try. I said ok. I didn’t want to date anyone else around here and he was sweet (and hot).

So we spent the next two months on the phone every night. An hour to two hours every night talking. Thank god for Verizon unlimited long distance phone service. One day he asked if I could come visit him. I bought the plane ticket that day and made my plans. That weekend, while I was visiting him, I realized that although I was going to have to wait three years for him to be out of the service and to be able to come home, it would be worth it. What’s three years anyway? At this point I’ve been through four years of undergrad and three years of law school and that time flew by.

So we’ve continued with the status quo. I have my life here: my house, my job, my family, my friends. He has his life there: his job, his friends, his obligation to the country. We still spend an hour on the phone every night (or more). We make our plans to see each other every three months (or as close to that as possible) and we talk about the things that we’ll do when he gets home finally. And I’m ok with that. I can still be as independent as I want, but I know at the end of the day I’ll come home, call the boy, and look forward to the next visit.