Surviving the Distance Part 2
Continuing from the last post….
I think I'll break this down into 3 parts and this will probably be my only post this week due to being crushed with papers for school. So for now, here's a short one.
First to update on a few things:
Wedding: Just a few more things to wrap blue ribbon around and I'm done for now, Arild has made our CD for the walking down the aisle song as well as another CD for background noise at the reception. Arild's wedding band came in and so far so good we just hope it fits him!
Moving: Stella has one ticket bought now, but I have to contact the PetSafe agency again and purchase her other ticket from New York to Oslo. There's been so much calling this place and that place and trying to get everything set up so we have no mistakes later I really can't keep up with everything.
I do go on May 31st to sign up for my language classes!!! :-) Apparently this requires testing for placement. Sounds like fun!
I'm also down to my last few days at work. The anticipation is KILLING me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh and it's also our -1 month wedding anniversary and T minus 24 days before he arrives!
Continuing our story:
When I had this bout of withdrawing from Arild I realized it was just silly to give up on him. I knew if I continued to live my life here without ever doing so much as meeting him I’d always have this thought of, “What if?”. During the time spent in my bubble and him being confused and a bit lost, he later told me he looked and researched my personality type and found that a bit comforting as he knew I’d be okay. We also referred to our personality type descriptions as “instruction manuals.” He’s easy and predictable; mine should be posted on the refrigerator.
Once out of my bubble, I contacted Arild and told him I’ve made a decision and I wasn’t going back on it. He was worried, but I assured him it was good news. During a tearful conversation I told him I wanted to be with him, he’s my best friend. I told him I thought he was the perfect person for me, he absolutely ruined my old views of men for the better, and I feel like there’s no one person that can compare to him. We decided to seriously talk things through over the next couple of months. Neither of us wanted to get any more attached unless this was something we were going to be serious about. We sat down and talked about how to do something so crazy in the most logical manner as possible. Our conclusion was this: If we’re going to do this, we’re going in 100%. We began getting serious about how to ensure this works. We started making plans on when to make the first visit, we began to think of ways and make schedules on how to keep contact, we started making future plans, which included getting married, and began discussing how one of us were going to make the move. We just needed to meet in person and spend some time together to confirm everything.
I think it’s a difficult decision and possible sacrifice when deciding who will move when in a relationship like this. For us, it was more or less a variety of things, but I think it was mostly the fact that he has his life together a lot better than me. He’s nearing 30, has a good career, a home, graduated college several years ago and I’m in my early 20s, about to graduate college and I’ve barely even started my life. Secondly, we had to weigh out pros and cons of what our countries can offer us and how that would affect us personally. Both countries have their perks as well as their downfalls. We both love our countries and we both feel loyalty and pride towards our homelands, but considering such things as quality of life, rates of potential employment, economy, family services, we chose Norway.
He soon booked his flight to see me. We decided a week after my semester in school was over would have been a good time. He’d also be here to celebrate my birthday- and he noted we could go to the zoo on my birthday because I’m really an over-aged kid and that’s something I always wanted to do, but up until then had never done. (He seems to remember the “small things” I tell him.) We counted down the days and impatiently waited for May 18th to arrive. (There’s a reason we chose May 18th as our wedding date……)
I nervously drove to the airport to pick him up. I don’t think I can quite describe the emotions that day though I can vividly remember them. It’s such a strange feeling meeting someone for the first time, but feeling like you’ve known them you’re entire life. He walked out of the baggage pick-up and I saw him approaching my car. I quickly got out of the car and gave him a big clumsy hug, semi-tripping over his feet in the process! J I had assumed I’d be so excited I wouldn’t stop talking to him, but I had the reverse affect – I was speechless. We had to sit in my car and just stare at each other for a few minutes with the only thing spoken being, “This is so weird!” Before leaving the airport, I hugged him again and gave him a kiss.
Throughout his trip to Kentucky last May, we tried to live as normal as possible, we went on dates, he nearly suffered a heatstroke, he was introduced to some interesting American culture, and most importantly, we spent time together. We went out to eat, went to a cavern, he taught me how to play disc golf at a park, we went to the movies, went grocery shopping, we watched late night TV, celebrated my 22nd and he met my mother. We were a halfway normal couple. He was exactly the person I expected him to be – only better. He presented himself the exact same way as the Arild in my laptop did. I can only hope he thinks the same of me. He still likes me, so I guess that’s a good sign. :-)
Then there was the leaving part. I think I started getting uneasy about this 2-3 days before he actually left. It was just a small dose of what awaited. The night before he left was quite awful. I was helping him get his suitcase packed and this was a rather tearful situation for us. I’d hug him and say through all the tears and trying to catch breath, “I. Don’t. Want. You. To. Leaveeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!” The next day arrived and thankfully we had some time to spend with one another that morning though it made the torn feeling worse. We celebrated his last day by eating a quick lunch at Kentucky Fried Chicken before driving back to the airport. We arrived at the airport and sat in my car as long as possible. Trying to stay as calm as possible, but hugging, crying and being snotty messes. We finally decided if we waited any longer I was going to be late for work, so we got out of the car grabbed his suitcase, hugged and kissed, said bye, hugged and kissed, said bye, hugged and kissed, said bye, and finally we agreed to slowly rip the band-aid off and walk away alone.
Watching him walk away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced in my life. I really have no words for describing what this feels like, but I can’t think of a more lonely feeling than that. It’s the one realization knowing for the first time in my life I was no longer independent and I was okay with that. I knew I was no longer a functioning single person, but in order to function properly I needed to be with my other half. If I could ever imagine living hell it would quite possibly be living in that moment. I left, went to work and appeared as normal as possible. He had a 24 hour trip home to sit and dwell in his own thoughts. What was the worst part was that we had no follow up plan. We had no idea when we’d see one another again. We knew exactly what we wanted our future to be, but didn’t have a plan in action.
The following days were quite harsh. We were back to living in our laptops. Skype. Messenger. E-mail. Pictures. It wasn’t the same. It still isn’t, though we’re both more adjusted to it again. We had started to think about things and more in depth. He was looking into the immigrant application process and I was checking on school and talking with my advisor on when I could graduate and we decided to go from there. Before the first meeting ever occurred we decided it would be best to finish my education here before making the move. We of course realized marriage needed to come into the picture somewhere. As did me stepping up and telling my family my plans…. The rest of the summer revolved around us working out our game plan, backtracking, assuring everything will be done right and what not.
The end of summer I finally broke down and told my family. I dreaded this day. I had so so much anxiety over it. I had no idea how to say what needed to be said and I really didn’t know what to say. My mother kept asking me questions about what my intentions were with him and I sort of just shrugged it off while she gave me skeptical looks. I also had aunts asking questions about him and one aunt called me late at night and said, “You’re too happy when you talk about him! What’s going on with you two?” Again I tried to shrug it off, but she told me she assumes I made the decision to move and she also asked me, “Have you already married him!?!?!”
I obsessed with this thought of telling family for a couple of weeks and one night I finally sat at my laptop with some Pepto Bismol at hand and over a few hours I wrote an e-mail. I wanted to say this face to face so badly, but couldn’t bring myself to doing it. I worried myself sick (literally) over this. I had to explain in e-mail if I told them in person I’d buckle or shut off or more likely, it would simply just never happen. I waited another week after the e-mail was finished before I sent it out. Luckily, it really wasn’t as bad as I expected. Then again, my life’s motto is, “Expect the worst so you’re not disappointed.” I explain this as not being pessimistic, but optimistically realistic. Some family members were okay with it and others were crushed. Some questioned me harshly and others accepted it. All of this was expected already of course.
At this time we were already in the middle of trying to plan another trip. We sort of thought it would be best if I make the next trip and go to Norway to meet his family. (This thought happened before I told my own family) but then I wanted and needed him here and decided it was best he make another trip to Kentucky and meet my family. So the next trip was finally booked. He would arrive in September and stay until mid-October. We also went ahead and planned the next trip for my arrival in Norway in January. So we counted down the days again…
Part 3 coming soon…
I think I'll break this down into 3 parts and this will probably be my only post this week due to being crushed with papers for school. So for now, here's a short one.
First to update on a few things:
Wedding: Just a few more things to wrap blue ribbon around and I'm done for now, Arild has made our CD for the walking down the aisle song as well as another CD for background noise at the reception. Arild's wedding band came in and so far so good we just hope it fits him!
Moving: Stella has one ticket bought now, but I have to contact the PetSafe agency again and purchase her other ticket from New York to Oslo. There's been so much calling this place and that place and trying to get everything set up so we have no mistakes later I really can't keep up with everything.
I do go on May 31st to sign up for my language classes!!! :-) Apparently this requires testing for placement. Sounds like fun!
I'm also down to my last few days at work. The anticipation is KILLING me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh and it's also our -1 month wedding anniversary and T minus 24 days before he arrives!
Continuing our story:
When I had this bout of withdrawing from Arild I realized it was just silly to give up on him. I knew if I continued to live my life here without ever doing so much as meeting him I’d always have this thought of, “What if?”. During the time spent in my bubble and him being confused and a bit lost, he later told me he looked and researched my personality type and found that a bit comforting as he knew I’d be okay. We also referred to our personality type descriptions as “instruction manuals.” He’s easy and predictable; mine should be posted on the refrigerator.
Once out of my bubble, I contacted Arild and told him I’ve made a decision and I wasn’t going back on it. He was worried, but I assured him it was good news. During a tearful conversation I told him I wanted to be with him, he’s my best friend. I told him I thought he was the perfect person for me, he absolutely ruined my old views of men for the better, and I feel like there’s no one person that can compare to him. We decided to seriously talk things through over the next couple of months. Neither of us wanted to get any more attached unless this was something we were going to be serious about. We sat down and talked about how to do something so crazy in the most logical manner as possible. Our conclusion was this: If we’re going to do this, we’re going in 100%. We began getting serious about how to ensure this works. We started making plans on when to make the first visit, we began to think of ways and make schedules on how to keep contact, we started making future plans, which included getting married, and began discussing how one of us were going to make the move. We just needed to meet in person and spend some time together to confirm everything.
I think it’s a difficult decision and possible sacrifice when deciding who will move when in a relationship like this. For us, it was more or less a variety of things, but I think it was mostly the fact that he has his life together a lot better than me. He’s nearing 30, has a good career, a home, graduated college several years ago and I’m in my early 20s, about to graduate college and I’ve barely even started my life. Secondly, we had to weigh out pros and cons of what our countries can offer us and how that would affect us personally. Both countries have their perks as well as their downfalls. We both love our countries and we both feel loyalty and pride towards our homelands, but considering such things as quality of life, rates of potential employment, economy, family services, we chose Norway.
He soon booked his flight to see me. We decided a week after my semester in school was over would have been a good time. He’d also be here to celebrate my birthday- and he noted we could go to the zoo on my birthday because I’m really an over-aged kid and that’s something I always wanted to do, but up until then had never done. (He seems to remember the “small things” I tell him.) We counted down the days and impatiently waited for May 18th to arrive. (There’s a reason we chose May 18th as our wedding date……)
I nervously drove to the airport to pick him up. I don’t think I can quite describe the emotions that day though I can vividly remember them. It’s such a strange feeling meeting someone for the first time, but feeling like you’ve known them you’re entire life. He walked out of the baggage pick-up and I saw him approaching my car. I quickly got out of the car and gave him a big clumsy hug, semi-tripping over his feet in the process! J I had assumed I’d be so excited I wouldn’t stop talking to him, but I had the reverse affect – I was speechless. We had to sit in my car and just stare at each other for a few minutes with the only thing spoken being, “This is so weird!” Before leaving the airport, I hugged him again and gave him a kiss.
 |
| BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!!!!!!!! |
 |
| I was trying to pet a donkey, but it was stubborn! It would have been different if I had food! |
 |
| We sort of had a stalker. |
Watching him walk away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced in my life. I really have no words for describing what this feels like, but I can’t think of a more lonely feeling than that. It’s the one realization knowing for the first time in my life I was no longer independent and I was okay with that. I knew I was no longer a functioning single person, but in order to function properly I needed to be with my other half. If I could ever imagine living hell it would quite possibly be living in that moment. I left, went to work and appeared as normal as possible. He had a 24 hour trip home to sit and dwell in his own thoughts. What was the worst part was that we had no follow up plan. We had no idea when we’d see one another again. We knew exactly what we wanted our future to be, but didn’t have a plan in action.
The following days were quite harsh. We were back to living in our laptops. Skype. Messenger. E-mail. Pictures. It wasn’t the same. It still isn’t, though we’re both more adjusted to it again. We had started to think about things and more in depth. He was looking into the immigrant application process and I was checking on school and talking with my advisor on when I could graduate and we decided to go from there. Before the first meeting ever occurred we decided it would be best to finish my education here before making the move. We of course realized marriage needed to come into the picture somewhere. As did me stepping up and telling my family my plans…. The rest of the summer revolved around us working out our game plan, backtracking, assuring everything will be done right and what not.
The end of summer I finally broke down and told my family. I dreaded this day. I had so so much anxiety over it. I had no idea how to say what needed to be said and I really didn’t know what to say. My mother kept asking me questions about what my intentions were with him and I sort of just shrugged it off while she gave me skeptical looks. I also had aunts asking questions about him and one aunt called me late at night and said, “You’re too happy when you talk about him! What’s going on with you two?” Again I tried to shrug it off, but she told me she assumes I made the decision to move and she also asked me, “Have you already married him!?!?!”
I obsessed with this thought of telling family for a couple of weeks and one night I finally sat at my laptop with some Pepto Bismol at hand and over a few hours I wrote an e-mail. I wanted to say this face to face so badly, but couldn’t bring myself to doing it. I worried myself sick (literally) over this. I had to explain in e-mail if I told them in person I’d buckle or shut off or more likely, it would simply just never happen. I waited another week after the e-mail was finished before I sent it out. Luckily, it really wasn’t as bad as I expected. Then again, my life’s motto is, “Expect the worst so you’re not disappointed.” I explain this as not being pessimistic, but optimistically realistic. Some family members were okay with it and others were crushed. Some questioned me harshly and others accepted it. All of this was expected already of course.
At this time we were already in the middle of trying to plan another trip. We sort of thought it would be best if I make the next trip and go to Norway to meet his family. (This thought happened before I told my own family) but then I wanted and needed him here and decided it was best he make another trip to Kentucky and meet my family. So the next trip was finally booked. He would arrive in September and stay until mid-October. We also went ahead and planned the next trip for my arrival in Norway in January. So we counted down the days again…
Part 3 coming soon…
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