a (somewhat illogical) wringing of hands

dearest,

Understandably it makes no sense that I’m preemptively filled with trepidation over your departure to the Jejubes Island. I mean, we already live more than 3000 miles and 3 time zones apart. So what if now you’ll be waking up around my dinnertime. There’s an app to tell me that, and rather than working out the math like a monkey on my fingers every hour of the day, I can instantly know – m is awake now. Asleep. Going to work. Eating breakfast. Living in tomorrow while I’m still in today.

And I’m totally excited for you! For this spectacular adventure. For solid employment and a substantial addition to your resume. For a beachview apartment – what! New food and new friends and Canadian cohorts. Absorption of a new culture. And what you’ll think of working with littles. We already know that you’re awesome with mine. And I feel like you’ll be getting to know a whole other side of God, somehow, and I look forward to living that with you.  Because obviously we’re pretty established at this whole long-distance friendship thing. And so where you go, I go.

I think that must be it – that in spite of physical distance, our lives are fairly entwined. So I’m not just bereft at the idea of not seeing you until, like, 2015 or something, omg. I can’t think about that yet. But I feel vicariously the anticipation of so many unknowns, the sting of temporary separations in your daily life, the landing in a completely. new. world.

It’s big.

So from 3000+ miles away I sit here anxiously wondering, worrying, waiting, expecting. Cheering. T-minus 7 days!

To Jejubes Island!

xoxox forever,

pen