The End Times

So it’s been a few days since the last time I posted, and a lot has happened...

Principle Event: BOY has officially left for his move to the Emerald City (no, not the gay bar in Pensacola…I am talking about my FAVORITE town in the Pacific NW—okay he is moving a bit north of it, but close enough). I/we found out the exact date he was to leave a little over a week ago, which I am kind of happy about because it didn’t give me too much time to mope and be silly about it. It would’ve been like in college when we would go out and be like, ‘Oh my gosh y’all! It’s the 2nd to last Tuesday of the last April for us to go out during college!’ those were the days. We almost ‘lasted’ ourselves to death. But it sure was fun.

Anyways, so BOY and I spent a lot of QT together last week (okay, during the past 3 months really); we ate dinner at my house with the entire fam at my house (and he was subject to the SAME ‘stephie is crazy’ stories as last time), during/after which my mother told me again how much she loved him and how fun and easy going he was. And I concur. I love him too. Then, the packers and movers finished getting his stuff early on Friday, so I decided to leave work a little early and go hang out with him. We started working on finishing the beers in his fridge, and next thing we knew, it was 6:15 and neither of us was ready for our 7:00 reservations at a fancy schmancy restaurant. CRAP! So I rush home and get ready and BOY does too.

Here is the first time I let my emotions get a little out of control. Note that not only am I upset that he is leaving, but I am also tired and hormonal. Bad combinations. So BOY is really easy going and not quite as time-oriented as Stephie1010 is…I rush to get ready for the dinner and am ready at 6:45p, when he calls and asks if I am ready. Yes yes! Ready and excited. Then he calls at 6:55p and asks me to meet him at his house, BECAUSE HE IS STILL AT THE MALL PICKING UP HIS PANTS! WWWWHHHHHHAAAAATTTTT? I am kind of upset that he isn’t going to pick me up for our date and that I rushed rushed rushed to get ready on time, so I get short with him but agree to drive to his house anyways. I get over it really quickly, because hey, it’s something that you get over quickly, and he apologizes, so that is that. And I am certainly not perfect either. And he is so wonderful in general. But I am emotional in general and want every last moment between us to be perfection. And I like things to go as planned, simple as that. This is another example of why he is perfect for me: he let me go crazy and listened to my concerns and that was that. He is so easy going in the ways that I am anal retentive.

Note: the pants are wonderful. i am glad he spent the time to go pick them up.

So dinner was wonderful. A pianist was playing some nice tunes during the meal and the view from Skopelos of the bay and (almost!) full moon was so romantic. Afterwards we wandered through the fence to a corner of the backyard of the restaurant and stood outside for a few moments (even though there was a wedding reception occurring outside and I am pretty sure we WEREN’T supposed to be there). It was amazing.

Saturday was filled with another “Stephie goes crazy” moment, after which BOY and I had a really good conversation and I learned about how to (hopefully!) not always be so uptight, and how to help him out too (turns out his easygoing-ness often makes him a little too lenient with time and tasks to finish during an allotted time—he told me to tell him straight up that we need to hurry or go or for him to hurry up—I said, okay!). He played golf with the dad and brother-in-law in AL while I went to cheerleading practice and ran some errands. Then we had a great dinner with my family at Global Grill (a favorite indeed-we were supposed to eat out at the club in AL-but a fatal accident clogged the interstate for hours and so we had to change our plans. Bro-in-law and his bro actually helped with some of the immediate rescue and needs following the accident. It sounded like it was very gory).

Funny side note: remember, all of BOY’s stuff was packed and moved on Friday, so on Friday and Saturday night, he slept on a pull-out bed in the sunroom, which = very small bed and VERY VERY bright and warm in the morning. I slept over there Saturday night (helloooooo red wine!) and I laugh just picturing us on the in between twin and double sized bed, squinting out the sun.

Sunday was a very busy day, and in retrospect, I am SUPER happy we had a lot to do. We went on base to finish his paperwork, to visit a friend for good-byes, to lunch for nummies, to Bruesters (just opened!) for ice cream-which of course melted SO FAST and got all over me, to Pinch a Penny to set up a pool manager, and then back to his house to pack up all his stuff. He had organized a good portion of his stuff, but left all the little jobs until the end…you know, all the packing that is annoying so everyone procrastinates doing it…packing up the bathroom stuff, the desk, gathering all the towels, organizing little random things that are spread throughout the house…that’s the kind of stuff I always needed help with, otherwise I would get distracted and take FOREVER to do it or just not do it at all. My mom AKA "THE ENFORCER", always helps to keep me focused during this part of the packing. Do you want this? Okay, really? Are you ever going to use it again? Haven’t we already packed 3 of this exact same thing? I think trashing it is a good idea too…that kind of guidance. So we are rockstars and finish this part and then I pretty much pack his entire car (one of his friends came by to say bye and I was on a roll and you all know how I become very very focused on being a packing goddess and MAKING EVERYTHING FIT, even if it really doesn’t all fit) in 20 minutes. Then we sit for about 10 and the roommate arrives home and he and Bill take care of some business and then his caravan partner arrives. No time to drag things out.

I hate good-byes. I am awful at them. Of course, I never really want to become good at them; that would require WAY too much practice in saying them. I got really upset, and BOY did a good job comforting me and showing that he cared and assuring me it would all be okay, but he didn’t cry. I kind of wanted him to, as an assurance that he was just as sad as I was that he was leaving. But he didn’t do it. He teared up a bit, but he was very strong. It’s not that I am worried about us, it’s just that I love him and didn’t want to be separated. It’s going to be quite the adjustment, I mean, I have seen him almost every day for the past 3 months, and I really want to see him every day forever, but that’s not in the cards for us right now. This experience is only going to make us stronger, to solidify ‘us.'

Anyways, he tells me he will call me later and I walk him to his car and get into mine. We take our opposite turns at the end of his street, and my tears start pouring faster. He calls me a few hours later and we talk, and I am okay. Turns out he choked up a little after leaving…I miss him already. He misses me. We’ve checked up a few times today and, you know what? It’s all good. Work is keeping me busy, which is WONDERFUL right now. I know he’s gone, and I am sad that I won’t see him tonight (tears welling in eyes), but I can talk to him and know he’s okay and love him from a distance. And breathe in and out. And be happy.For him. and for us.

I love you babes!