Moving is hard. Moving across country is a cluster fuck. Generally people have some kind of laid out plan and go visit the area and set up a new place to rent and blah blah blah. That wasn't the option we had. We had a, it's time to go right now, oh and hey the area you were going to move to is a shit idea so change your idea to something better and guess what the time frame you had of a month just went to a week and you can't be in your house to pack except for certain hours and pick what you would like to try to save from your life because most of it has got to go AND only one of you has ever been to the area before. NOW RUN!
Yet we did it. We were technically homeless for a little while, but not, because we have amazing friends who took us in with warm hearts and homes and loved us and our bunny and gave us places to rest when we could while we ran and helped us with connections and we got a place really fast and things slid together in a time frame we never could have expected.
Then comes the problem of proving that we actually live here to the State, which has been harder then we expected, but we're working it out. Everything is in this holding pattern of working it out, and over the next few months will be completed but MONTHS feel LONG AS FUCK.
It feels like we have been here a long time, tho we haven't. It feels like at any moment we are going to wake up and be told that this is just a dream and we have to go back to the place that neither one of us want to refer to as home anymore, because it isn't. We might of lived there a long time, or one of us was born there, but it didn't FEEL like home. It felt like a war zone. And we fought, the stress of the things there and now is stress here. What if money doesn't come? What if it's all just a sham and we don't get to belong here because good things don't get to happen to people who try to escape where we came from? What if we're just going to have one too many fights over some stupid dinner plan or where we should park the car and everything falls apart?
Nearly everyone we know when we started our relationship has ended their long term relationships. That is scary as fuck. You never really know why those things happen. Maybe it was one fight too many about taking out the trash and that was just THE DAY it was ENOUGH. Moving and starting a whole life over, with your best friend, is FUCKING SCARY. Friends fight, married people fight. If you don't marry your best friend, why the hell did you marry them?
So you stay up too late, and you talk about the guy with the magic pocket full of ice cream sandwiches that should be melted thirty minutes into his shift, but aren't and HOW THE FUCK DID HE DO THAT? You laugh together, and know that this is why you got married in the first place. This good space,where you have this warm happy pocket of each others smell and skin and that feeling no one else has ever given you of safety and being complete and understood. Is that where his ice cream is kept? Is it like a magic pocket that would keep our marriage safe from stupid fights that are just stress related and will pass? Or does he just have a trick that he has to do before time runs out and if we don't learn that trick and we have one fight too many will our time run out too?
I believe in magic, I've tasted ice cream. I want the time.