Come and Gone Again

It's an odd feeling having your significant other with you for a week at a time, every few months. This long distance relationship stuff isn't fun. It's gotten easier, for sure. One and a half years later and I've become accustomed to being alone. I even enjoy it. In fact you could say I need alone time now, and I rely heavily upon movies to fill those evenings when I just want to recharge my batteries.

The boy came a week ago, and left this morning. Since I moved to London, his visits have been highly anticipated, and his departures dreaded. But today- for the first time- I didn't cry when he left. I napped and watched Dr Who instead.

I always stay up late the first night I'm alone. I readjust by avoiding my bedroom and any remnants of him being here- like the fact that there are two water glasses on my bedside table instead of one. And the one sock he forgot to take home. Or the receipt for the dinner we had a few days ago.

It's so weird, this cross-Atlantic romance of mine.