irony

Life is full of irony these days. My life keeps moving in ways that I didn't expect and I keep becoming more the type of person I never before understood. In so many ways, I still feel the way I did in my last post, months ago, swept along with the tide. But in many ways, the issues I was discussing then aren't issues anymore at all. Instead of observing major life changes in the relationships around me, I am considering major life changes myself. In so many ways, I'm just over what I'm doing here, over the things I grew sad about before, and ready to live slowly, everyday, doing something or doing nothing, but doing whatever it is I am going to be doing with a partner. With Mark.

So, Thanksgiving with Mark's family was wonderful and not completely overwhelming. It was good to spend so much concentrated time with Mark-- until then, five consecutive days was the longest time we'd had with each other. After Thanksgiving, it was a marathon rush of papers, work, a cold, and then at the last minute, some shopping and some small crafting. Like always, I'm going to be a few months late with some Christmas presents. I look forward to the day when I can plan those in advance.

Rachel flew down the night before my systematics credo was due, and I can't tell you how it went because grades are still not posted yet. I was relieved it was done, however, and felt like I learned a ton in the process of writing. Rachel did some sightseeing on her own and then some Christmas shopping with me; I'm afraid I wasn't much of a tour guide because there was so much going on. We made it through the weekend and then we departed for Houston on Monday the 20th.

Rachel and me before leaving DC

I got into Houston super late on Tuesday the 21st, exhausted and excited to my family and Mark. He arrived on Wednesday evening and I picked him up from the airport so we could have a moment to adjust and greet one another without the additional pressure of meeting my parents. I know he was worried, but I wasn't (well, maybe a little at the last second) because Mark means so much to me that my family couldn't possibly refuse him. Of course, they didn't, either.

It was so good to spend time with my family, and this was the absolute best holiday with them ever. There were no major blow ups, no fights-- and Christmas day couldn't have been a more happy experience. My family loved Mark and Mark loved my family-- he even bonded with the dogs (and Bubba)! I got to see my niece and my nephew and Mark and spent a good amount of time with them, what with the Christmas eve service, Christmas holiday, Alanna's third birthday, and Erin and Aron's wedding.

Mark and Noodle. I bet Noodle misses Mark, too!

And Mark and I spent 12 consecutive days, 24/7 with one another. We did not get sick of each other. We drove together fine. We ate everything delicious. We had time for him to play guitar and for me to sew (when I could muster the desire to). We went out together and did nothing at home together. We had one fight, and it's only in the interest of full disclosure I share that now (because omission feels like lying)-- and it was the most minor of things, just a few tense/overwhelmed feelings at the prospect of packing to leave. Resolved in twenty minutes or less. I love him so much and I know he was the source of a great deal of my joy this holiday season. The entire time we were preparing to say goodbye, I kept forgetting he wasn't actually coming home with me. It felt so much like we were saying our goodbyes and going home together. How grateful I was, though, to have someone else wipe away my tears as I pulled out of the driveway and rounded the corner, my house and waving parents disappearing from view. I've done that teary departure four times by myself and it truly never gets easier.

We drove on up, into depressing winter (Houston was 75-85!) and I felt my relaxation and happiness dissipate as I began to dwell on saying goodbye to Mark. Our farewell in the long-term parking lot at BWI was truly the worst I've experienced-- him, too, I'm sure-- and I can't help but feel that the goodbyes will never get better than that. When I am with him, I feel like I'm living vibrantly, using all the most saturated colors to paint my world. When he isn't here, the best I can do is pastels.

We got haircuts this day. And then, we put on matching shirts.

I do not know how I am going to make it this semester, as my grief-- I just miss him--makes it impossible to care about the other things I'm supposed to be doing. Insert irony here. Remember before, when I was an independent woman? It turns out, I'm my best me, the most independent, when Mark is around. He helps me to be myself. Without him, I just kind of don't care to do anything. It's not that I need him to do things for me, or that I can't do things without him. It's just that I'm so unhappy when he's not here I lose my appetite for anything else that might bring me happiness.

I realize how that might sound and I am slightly appalled. But I report the truth. It isn't as if I don't have hopes for my future, ambition still. It's just that those things-- success in work, plans-- don't matter all that much if he isn't a part of them.

Mark got me those pearls for Christmas. Matching necklace, too. What a surprise!

Now I feel ultra dramatic. It has been a dramatic week. The climate change, the social change (being constantly around Mark and my family and returning to a shell of seminary, empty since classes haven't really begun again yet), the intensity of being with Mark and then not being with him: I've begun to wonder what I'm still doing here, even as I understand I'm SO close to completion I have to stay. I just have to muster enough energy to complete my degree and then I can leave, can be with Mark, do whatever I want. The frustration of being here, lacking the desire to be here, being here alone-- I've never wanted to leave more. I've never been so devoid of happiness in a place before. I cried all week. And then our family kitty Gypsy, whom we've had since I was in high school, had to be euthanized today because she had a mass on her lung preventing her from breathing. I only cried more.

I am ready for change in my own life, and I'm thinking about changes I had once ruled out of possibility. It's an exciting place, and I'm eager to begin and stop placating myself with just thinking about what will change. The dramatic week is almost over, and although I just got back, I'm going to Binghamton tomorrow. Mark's birthday is Sunday and I get to be there.

I'm still grateful. I'm trying desperately to be grateful both with Mark and without him, but I know I still need to work on it. I'm SO grateful for him, sometimes I feel like it might suffocate me. I don't know whether to call it luck or a blessing, and maybe it's a little of both. God didn't make Mark for me, or I for him, but God is present in our relationship. And without Mark, I was already blessed. Those without partners can also be blessed. So there is an element of luck involved, because I haven't done anything to deserve Mark. Whatever it is, I am counting my stars and praying that nothing intrudes to ruin our happiness.

Mark and me with my nephew David. Both cuties. And, we all matched. I love matching.