Well the one single event/day I had been trying to avoid  has finally come and gone - May 5, 2008. It’s not really the day exactly, I never do anything for cinco the mayo, in fact I don’t even know what the date is for most of the year, but this year is drastically different.

On Monday evening my husband left for school in a different country. And believe me, if there was anyway I could’ve gone with him I would’ve -even it meant that I pack myself in his suitcase and surprise him there. But for so many reasons and too many details I simply couldn’t go and it drives me crazy.

It’s been two days since he left and I don’t know how I’m going to take it for the next four months because I already feel like it’s been four months. Although he’ll be back in August for about two weeks, he’ll head back for another four months and continue the cycle for a year and a half.

 I think I’m going to die.

SubhanAllah. Maybe you don’t understand. We’ve never been away from one another for more than two days, maybe three, maximum. But four months at a time?!!? Oh. my. Allah. My brain still hasn’t registered that he’s an ocean away. I feel like he’ll come home for dinner or walk through the door any minute and say he was just kidding about the whole school-in-a-different-country thing. I keep waiting to wake up, but I doubt I will.

He left on Monday evening and we wasted the whole day trying to settle some last minute technicalities here and there and before we knew it, it was time for him to head to the airport. It really felt surreal. In all honesty I was hoping for him to change his mind. To say that he doesn’t want to go anymore. To just not go. But I know it’s better in the long run; it’s for us and our family, so he really didn’t have a choice. But dang, this is not fun. It’s not fun AT ALL. I am going to whine and cry like a baby about this because gosh darn it, I love the man and I can’t stand to be away from him. Perhaps it’s immature of me, but I don’t care. It’s not like I express my feelings to everyone and cry in public about things anyways, so I think to rant here is basically my right, almost my obligation since keeping it all in will turn out really really ugly.

Like I’ve mentioned before I do wear my emotions on my sleeve and my mom could tell I missed him tremendously. Yesterday she gave me about four random hugs throughout the day and rubbed my headache like I was a little girl again. Actually she’s taking it pretty badly herself. He’s really her only son (in law, but whatever, we don’t use “in law” terms- family is family) and she’s worried about him.

When I got home from our goodbyes I cried at everything that reminded me of him -which was everything. He used to like to eat with this fork or is it that fork? It doesn’t matter, he usually preferred a fork! Waaaaaaaaah. That sort of thing.

I normally smell his clothes because, well, a) I love the way he smells and b) I just do that sort of thing. So this time I sniffed so hard my lungs should’ve exploded. Then I realized that I might inhale all of his scent at once and there won’t be enough to last until he comes back and decided to ration it out until August.

Am I crazy?

I’m not too proud to admit that I am. Maybe even a little obsesive.

That night I slept alone on my new firm pillow which wasn’t a big deal since I’ve slept alone before when he used to work overnight, but he would always be there when I woke up.  When he wasn’t partially snoring away next to me the morning after, it all become too real. Like I woke up to a really bad dream…that wasn’t a dream. To make matters worse, internet connection and cell phone service is pretty much a lucky if you have it, too bad if you don’t kind of thing where he is. But alhamdulilah he got someone to install a home phone, so at least I can talk to him when he’s in his apartment.

Goodness, I’m always a wreck when he leaves for a small trip or when I don’t see him for days, but my heart feels heavy and I’m not interested or excited about anything anymore. It’s been pretty hard for him too. It would be unfair to say that he’s having it easy when he’s actually struggling to get settled in and constantly stressed, just add the absence of a loving support system (in terms of being physically there) and I think it’s a recipe for disaster. But alhamdulilah he’s a survivor. And deeply loved.

Over the last couple of days I realized that I’m really going to be far too busy to even think how much things suck right now, so inshaAllah it will be August in no time. Time flies when you’re busy, right? And that’s exactly what I plan to do -stay really really busy. Oh, and try to be optimistic and not focus of the negative blah blah blah.

I just want him home.

Honestly I still get really angry when I think about our friends who live their lives normally and most importantly -together. We have friends who get to venture through undergraduate school and graduate school at the same time so they are in the same place in life and others who are out of school and beginning to build their families. But I feel like my husband and I just hit barrier after barrier. Alhamdulilah we have plenty to be thankful for, but I’m a pretty selfish and sometimes pessimistic person, okay? I just want us to move out and live normal freakin’ lives. I don’t want us to be separated for a year and half. I don’t want to still be at my parent’s house for another million years. I’m tired of people thinking that we’re not officially married-married because we don’t live on our own (actually I don’t care about this anymore, but I’m tired of the “so when are you moving out again?” question). I hate that no matter how I plan out my academic schedule for the next two years, I will not be able to see the hubzman for a year minimum.

But I need to keep in mind that most of our friends are married to people their own age and come from well off families. Hubz and I are three years apart and four years apart academically, so we will never be in the same stage in life, whereas most of our friends are. We just happen to get married before my senior year in high school and his junior year in college -so duh, we didn’t have money. And both of our families are immigrants with us being the first college/graduate school bound generation. I need to remember that we’re on a totally different stage in our lives than our friends, but it still makes twitch with frustration.

Ugh, I really don’t think I have the patience or strength to be handle this upcoming year of events (plenty of other stuff I have yet to mention), but Allah doesn’t give you more than what you can bare, right? At least that’s what I keep telling myself. That and “after hardship comes ease” because I am really really REALLY looking forward to the “ease” part inshaAllah.

In reality I would love to show my I’m-sick-and-tired-of-everything face and not have people ask me what’s wrong because there is literally only one person that I feel comfortable talking about stuff to aside from my husband. And she’s in an entirely different state.

askhfowihldkshlalkgfdkjhsaifudhslkdha

And I know that things could be worse and alhamdulilah they’re not. But is it wrong to wish for things to not suck so much all the time? I mean, I hardly complain about anything to anyone and I feel guilty complaining even here, but it’s relieving to just say this all stinks -badly.

Anyhow as I mentioned the hubz will be back in August inshaAllah and when he is back, don’t expect to hear from me or see me (for those who do). I will not be available even for emergencies. Fend for yourself.

Ha!