Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A Logistical Standstill
I feel like I’m stuck at a relationship rest stop. Sure, it happens to be off a nice mountain road with pretty views and clean bathrooms, but it’s not my destination. It’s not even like the lovely picnic grounds before the ultimate destination. It’s a rest stop. And I’m getting antsy here.
I don’t know if I’ve written it on this blog yet, but Mr. Wonderful and I started talking about moving in together back in November. Now, being a girl and all, this shot my mind forward like a domestic cannonball—sailing my thoughts through pockets of home décor and homecooked meals and alone togetherness. It was the step forward I had been waiting for.
On the subject of waiting, lets just recap here and remember that I had to wait 7 months for an I love you, a year for a meet-the-family trip and many, many weeks and months throughout 2009 to even spend time with Mr. W. I know, I know, that should make me incredibly grateful just to have him back in the country, right? Well it does. But it’s not always enough to make me sit still and ignore the trajectory I’m yearning for. I’m growing oh so tired of waiting.
(Note to Self: This is a life lesson because I hate waiting. I’m a snap decision-maker and these continual stints in limbo are great immersion therapy for me. Whatever.)
A few nights ago, Mr. W and I were again discussing the possibility of a move-in when he began breaking down all the logistics involved. He has a roommate, so this isn’t as simple as me packing up my apartment and renting a U-Haul. There are financial issues, personal issues, and a whole lot of sticky red tape precluding anything from happening fast.
I said, “So are we looking at like 9 months here?”
And he said maybe.
This isn’t what I had planned out in my head when the subject first came up. Particularly because a year from now, Mr. W could end up working on another movie in a foreign country. So it’d be great to actually have some living time with him here. Now.
Being me, I made another snap decision and said, “Maybe I should just buy a condo then.”
And being Mr. W, he said something like, “That’s not going to solve anything. These things just take time.”
Why oh why is it so hard for me to forge a harmonious relationship with the clock and calendar? I really wish that I was the kind of person who didn’t mind the wait. But instead I feel like I’m going to rupture my spleen over this.
I bought a book by the Dalai Lama (or Rama, as my mother calls him) about the Buddhist perspective on patience. I’ve been reading it every night before bed. So far, I don’t think it’s working…