This is the number of miles I have moved away from the security of my family and some of my dearest friends. This was also, when Googled: a leap year starting on a Tuesday of the Gregorian calendar; it is the name of the Standard Breed of Schnauzer; and the year Harry S. Truman was born. These things hold little bearing on my daily life, the sheer fact that I had to Google them in the first place...
The miles however are like a slow, nagging ache some days. A warm lonely flood that rolls over my body like the first bite of a blueberry muffin on a Sunday morning. I fight back the tears and shake off the need to be touched and move through my days, finding things to keep my mind busy and help me find a life here.
Here, life is good, so near perfect that there are days I wake up wondering when the bottom will fall out, "will today be the day that I snap out of this "drunken" bliss?" I can't be untrue to the process and the steps that are taken daily to live this life. Sacrifices have been made, spurred by choices to begin this life, compromises exist to better achieve bliss for each other. To have another working for the same outcome is most likely what makes the whole thing possible. The daily choice on his part to meet me halfway, but allow room for our own opinions and feelings, helps me remember we're on this journey together.
I'm thankful for that constant, it keeps me grounded and out of the pit that loneliness keeps tempting me toward. A full life here will come, and I look forward to it's complexities and abundance, but for now I remain blissful in the solace of the journey and my other who travels it with me.
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