Come Home, Already
My boyfriend, taking a mud bath in Vietnam.
It’s late on Thursday night, and my boyfriend just called me from Borneo. He’s been incommunicado for four days, apparently because he’s been working on his deep sea diving certificate from the perch of a half-mile Island that doesn’t have internet. I receive lots of messages like this. Craig riding elephants. Craig exploring the waters of the deep in Malaysia. Craig visiting remote Buddhist temples in Cambodia. Craig in a Chinese New Year’s week-long water fight in Thailand. Craig traveling the coast of Vietnam, seeing unbelievable things. I have a dozen post cards pinned up in my kitchen from locales across SE Asia. Tonight, he’s waiting for a flight to take him to Manila, in the Phillipines. As happy as I am for him, it makes me sick.
I haven’t seen my boyfriend in over two months. We’ve only spoken 4 times since he left (his phone is dead) and email is problematic in some of the places he travels, so it’s difficult to stay in touch. The call was less than 2 minutes long due to his calling card and I could barely hear him, as the connection was terrible. He felt so far away I almost wish he had not called. It just makes me miss him.
He writes a blog of his travels, which helps in dealing with the distance, but after two months, what was an acceptable detachment is now an annoying personal inconvenience. I’m angry that I’m stuck in DC being a drone while he’s having an adventure, I’m frustrated sexually by spring and it’s demand for expression, and I miss my boyfriend. I really, really miss my boyfriend.
I’ve always been an independent person who doesn’t need many people around him in order to survive. I didn’t tell him this, but I was actually looking forward to him leaving, so I could get more work done. Considering my distaste for domesticity in past relationships, I could not have predicted feeling so lost without the mundane rituals that define committed relationships. I was looking forward to spreading my wings a little while he was gone. Go out more, meet new people. Since he left I haven’t gone out much more, and I can’t say I’ve met many new people. Most surprising, all I really want from my life right now is to cook meals with him and make disparaging remarks about his militant introduction of vegetables into my diet, debate economics at 3:00am while under the covers, and curl up on the couch and watch dubbed foreign films. In spite of my ramblin' nature, my greatest aspiration is to be blissfully boring.
How did this happen? I don’t care. All I know is that for the first time in my life, I’ve found myself in a relationship that actually seems to work, and for the first time in my life I’m a gay man in a relationship who doesn’t feel like he might be missing out on something else. In spite of my frustrations, I have the distinct feeling that I might be doing something right.
He comes home on Monday.
9 comments:
I know how you feel (kinda).
My job takes me to places of varying levels of interesting-ness (Hawaii, Japan, Italy, Greece - but also Jacksonville, FL and Norfolk, VA) for periods of up to three weeks at a time. Sometimes I think it will be nice to get away from the boyfriend for a bit - but invaribly I start to miss the random small "committed relationship" things pretty much from day one.
I miss arguing about Clinton/Obama. I miss forcing him to eat a balanced diet. I miss making disparaging remarks about his choice of internet homepage (MSNBC - are you fucking kidding me? He doesn't even read BBC News and it makes me insane....). I miss getting random text messages from him during the work day.
Basically, I just miss him. And I've never felt like this before, which is scary, yet great.
So hold in there Ben. There is nothing better than being away for a long time and walking out of the international arrivals gate at Dulles, seeing your boyfriend grinning ear to ear at the mere sight of you. That one moment (almost) makes the whole time away worth it.
Oh, and have a good time Monday night.
it's thai new year he saw in thailand. it comes later than chinese new year. it's called songkran. they throw water on each other because it's fun, i think, but also because the main religious ritual associated with the holiday is the pouring of holy water on a buddha's hands. i think the monks will also pour water on your hands. either way you get charged money, which is fucked up.
how do i know this? my half thai bf who made me almost physically ill when he had to leave for three days for a work-related trip . . .
Sweet post, Ben. You can make it.
Craig's pecs in that pic are, literally, outstanding.
so ben, i see that the linens and sheets are still subject to your bucking hips.
Bittersweet post, but seriously, was it just an excuse to post a hot photo of your super hot boyfriend?
Good luck, and hang on. Separation makes the heart grow fonder, or so I've been told.
Wow. Congrats! :-)
dave karger + cheyenne jackson = sooooza
Should I stop sending postcards?
I hate the distance as much as you do and, believe me, I think it's been harder to live without the comforts of domesticity in a totally foreign city/culture than it is at home. All I know is that missing you makes me physically ill on a consistent basis. How dare you have this effect on me?! lol It's terrifyingly wonderful.
Midway though that advanced diving course on Borneo, I sat on a pristine white sand beach, which the government of Malaysia allows only 100 or so people to visit per day, but it still felt dull without you. Brilliant colors without vibrancy.
But I know for a fact that distance makes the heart grow fonder and for the last few weeks my heart has bordered implosion anticipating getting home.
As a side note, I love that you are adding a personal notes to the TNG. Talking about the latest blogs with Zach, Michael and you at DC9 again might just seem like heaven. Three days left... and no more post cards unless they are delivered in person, I promise (for all those not yet postmarked ;) )
- the bf
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