And more often than not, our timing sucks. Valid examples: My best friend's bachelorette party just so happens to land on the same day Cayden comes in town, which also just so happens to be the day my period starts; Cayden finds out he was only allowed to buy extra vacation days during the first two weeks of starting his job, which means he can't visit in November; I manage to come down with the worst strep throat of my entire life while we're vacationing in Rome. I could go on, but I don't want to waste your time. I know how precious it can be.
But, for a second, let's talk about the worst time in the world to bring your long-distance boyfriend over for 10 days of fun, romance and relaxation: Right after you start a new job. When you're the new girl, you come early and leave late. You pour your heart into everything you're doing, even if it's just brainstorming a week's worth of Twitter content. You go to lunch with your coworkers at every chance you get, because it's crucial to form that lunch-buddy bond early on. And you don't even dare think about, much less ask for, a day off.
I'd been at my new job for two weeks when Cayden came in town. I couldn't have been more grateful for the three-day 4th of July weekend, but I knew the rest of the week was going to be rough. How was I supposed to come to work early and leave late when I had to leave Cayden stranded at Starbucks the whole time I worked? It wasn't like I could just drop him off at daycare and forget about him.
And how was I supposed to pour my heart into that Twitter content when 95 percent of it was occupied with thoughts of Cayden?
Lunch with the coworkers? Not a chance. Lunch time was the only time I got to spend with Cayden during the day. I couldn't give it up to go to lunch with people I'd see almost every day for the next however many years.
So you see my dilema.
So that Monday, the final day of our three-day weekend, I tried to hit "Pause" again, as I'd tried to do so many times in our rollercoaster of a relationship. As he hovered over me that morning, tan and naked and beautiful, I took in every detail. I watched the way his triceps poked out and then hid again as he swayed above me. I watched the way his veins stuck out on his hands as they balanced on either side of me. And I watched the way he watched me, almost as if he were trying to memorize me as well.
When we met up with my former editor, an old coworker, and some of his friends for lunch at State and Allen Lounge, I watched the way Cayden pretended to laugh at my coworker's friend's ridiculous story, if only to be polite. I watched the way his jaw clenched and relaxed as he chewed his burger. I watched how he made eye contact with everyone he spoke to, giving them his undivided attention while he held my hand under the table.
And when I say I watched him, I don't mean the creepy, demonic way Courtney Stodden watches Doug Hutchison. What I mean is, I noticed him, snuck glances at him, took quick mental snapshots of his reactions. If I could sketch the snapshots, you wouldn't even be able to tell what they were because everything was so close-up.
I let my mind and my heart fully encompass Cayden that entire day so I could give up bits and pieces of it to dedicate to work the rest of the week. Already, the weekend felt like one big blur of sun and beers and pools and friends in the sun at the pool with beers. It didn't feel like three separate days. And when Cayden was in town, it was very important to separate each day so I'm prepared for what day 10 brings: Goodbyes.
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Sorry it's a short post tonight! I have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow to go get my tonsils out. It's going to be one hell of a recovery from what I hear, but I'm hoping I'll be able to blog through my haze of painkillers and lack of sleep for the next 10 days or so. So, if you follow me on Twitter, I apologize in advance for the 'woe-is-me' tweets you might see during my recovery. Love yall!
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