It's Time to Be the Strong One

"I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord."  This famous Phil Collins line loops in my mind's soundtrack, a grim reminder that changes are coming--quickly. Stress is building; doubt is rearing its ugly head.

How do I know?  John was up at 4:30 this morning, out the door by 6:15. As we talked while he was getting ready, he ticked off a list of all the little things that need to be accomplished over the weekend. He sounded a lot like me when I feel overwhelmed, fretting about the small stuff because it can be managed, conquered more easily than the big stuff.

Guilt squeezes my stomach the way I wring out a sponge. I'm all twisted up inside over something I said last night. Something I should have just kept to myself.

"I can't believe in a little over a week, you're going to be leaving me," I whisper as we are dozing off.

"I know," is his answer. "It's sad." 

That last, short sentence hangs in the dark.

Dammit, Annmarie. This guy has enough going on, and you decide to add sadness to his chum bucket of emotions? Way to go.

Then, I think back to a line from the Life in Pieces episode we watched right before bed: something about how being apart brings you closer together, advice to a nephew from an uncle when the new bride gets a job for six whole hours a day. 

"That's what will happen with us, right?" I jokingly say. He laughs, but now I realize he probably didn't need that brand of humor at the time. 

So, this is the week I need to buck up, swallow any insecurities, and keep my brilliant thoughts and witty quips to myself, to not let stress ruin the last full week I get to live with my husband for 3 1/2 months. Not to sound overly dramatic--I know it's not the end of the world, it will go by quickly, etc.--but we haven't been apart for more than a few days since our college days when we started our little long-distance romance. 

I will be OK. He will be OK. But, it's going to suck for a while. 

And then, it won't. 





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