41. most couples

Being engaged across the oceans was somehow a little bit better than just dating long distance. I’m not sure if it was the reassurance of the ring, or the impending permanent togetherness that did it, but the seven weeks steadily ticked by.

After a couple of days back at work, I had a long conversation with BB and decided to quit my job. I was working in retail and there was no way I was getting time off over Christmas, especially as I’d just taken six weeks unpaid leave. I really, desperately wanted to spend some real time with my Boy when he came home and thought that I would easily find a similar low-responsibility, low-paying job again in the new year. BB’s classes would only start in middle February so we would both be on holiday for two whole months! I know most couples never get to spend that kind of time together, and it seemed pretty indulgent, but then I figured that if we could manage it, why the hell not?

Until then, I celebrated my 30th in style, organised girls’ nights to introduce my old girls to my new girls, visited BB’s family to share in missing him and continued at work until the day before Boy arrived. Then the day actually came, at long last, the day of days. Before I knew it, I was on my way to the airport to pick up one special delivery. My Beautiful Boy, my man.

It was unreal, and at the same time hyper-real. Suddenly, finally, we were in our home country, amongst our friends and family. Here we had our pasts and here, now, we were dreaming of a future. Together. Forever. Lucky, lucky, lucky me.

40. what next

My little Sister was picking me up from Cape Town airport. I still hadn’t heard anything from her on the engagement, so I was a bit nervous to see her. Instead of a worried Sis, I got this:



Yes, that is a picture of the BB sewn onto a pillow and yes, it was a bit creepy. But so sweet!

I was elated to find that my best friends and siblings were all super excited and one hundred percent behind our engagement. It seemed the BB had won them over in the few weeks we’d spent together in SA, and that little post on Facebook surely didn’t hurt any.

So BB and I continued our two-hour a day Skype marathons as we tried to figure out what next. Could I move to the US with him in January? What would I do there, could I work? Would I freeze to death / become incurably depressed in the extreme winter weather? Should we wait until March, when he was coming home to be best man at his best friend’s wedding (and the weather would improve)? I really do not fare well in cold / rainy / anything-less-than-balmy weather!

Many options but none seemed viable. It didn’t make sense for me to pack up for Madison when he’d only be there till May. It definitely made no sense to live so far apart until then either. I was curious and excited to know what would be, but I wasn’t worried. All that mattered was that we were still talking and laughing and loving each other as much and more than ever before.

Then, one happy day, Beautiful Boy phoned with unbelievably good news. He’d spoken to all the relevant authorities and in a groundbreaking decision, the UW were going to allow him to complete the final term of his MBA as an exchange student at the University of Cape Town!
This is not something that they do; this is not standard exchange procedure. But somehow, some way, my BB had used that irresistible charm and undeniable persistence of his, to ensure that he’d be home for Christmas and that this was where he’d remain. I was ecstatic. In a small matter of seven weeks, my favourite person in the whole world would be in my arms, at home, and our life together could begin.

21. odds

In some ways it was wonderful that our courtship took place in this way. If we’d been in the same city we might’ve spent way too much time kissing and not dealt with half the issues that came up over the wires.

Terrible sadness, insecurities and doubt would plague me every now and then. It didn’t matter how busy I was, how often I visited with his family and friends or mine, how often he reassured me that I need only get to Madison and all would be crystal clear… I was still the same girl who stuck it out in a sad situation for many empty years, and I could not believe that all this sharing and belonging was real. On the one hand I was super excited, on the other I kept waiting for the beautiful bubble to burst.

I mean, who does it ever work out for? Who deserves this insane compatibility that just makes everything easy? Why should I be allowed to forge this incredible bond with a sane, smart, wonderful man and get to keep it, forever?
What are the odds?

20. on my way

Thus began the longest seven weeks of my life.

Except that, Boy then convinced me to visit him for two weeks in Madison, Wisconsin before continuing on my planned American Adventure with Lala, so it ended up being only the longest five weeks. He was persuasive that way!

I was so energised by our mutual adoration; I simply demanded the extra two weeks leave and arranged all my other affairs to fit in. I felt unstoppably, undeniably sure of my course of action. I was in love and on my way to be with my love.

Oh, that long distance love. What torturous rapture, blissful agony. It felt like I had acquired an extra shadow. I went about my business, did my thing, worked and socialised and talked and laughed and ate and slept, but a small, itsy bitsy little part of me was always somewhere else. Wondering what he’s doing, where he’s going, when would I talk to him again?

And talk we did. Never mind a seven hour time difference and exorbitant communication costs in Africa, we spent at least an hour on the phone every day, and more often than not, twice a day. And then there was the five to ten daily text messages plus e-mails and facebooking that also went on. It was crazy baby.

14. say yes

To put the European dilemma in perspective, I am a very good girl.
I always do the right thing.
I am conscientious, responsible, reliable to a fault.
I wouldn’t even dream of ditching my job and running off into the Mediterranean sunset with Beautiful Boy. Even though my job was certainly not a career and only part-time and something I was doing for fun. I felt compelled to stay here and figure out my life post-Ex and Boy had to go and have fun and we’d catch up some other time. That’s what we said.

The weekend before Boy left we went on a road trip, just the two of us. It was winter, cool and rainy. We drove for hours, talking non-stop, dissecting and discarding the possibility of a long-distance relationship. Boy had tried it before and didn’t think it could work in general. I didn’t feel ready for any kind of relationship, never mind one that had the added pressures, insecurity and longing of a million miles between us. So it was decided.

We loved each other. Yes, we’d been using the L-word since about week 2 and we honestly meant it. We were superbly well suited to each other. We had the most fun together. We potentially had a wonderful future together. But.

But right now Boy had to go, and I had to stay.

So he’d go and I’d stay and we’d live and love and learn and be single and keep in touch and then maybe one day, when he moved back here, he could ask me out for drinks and I could say yes…