When I was getting ready to leave Texas I struggled majorly with my moods. I’d swing from being elated about going to in tears over leaving folks behind. I knew that my move was going to seriously change my life.

A month later and I’m married and have less than a month in the US. No surprise that the mood swings are back. Today was a blue day. I woke up disgruntled and fought tears all morning. It got worse when B mentioned in a phonecall to a friend that he may be in Canada over Christmas. While I’m in Germany. Away from my friends and family and now him. There’s a competition that I really hope he’s competing in at the time. And, as long as I get a job, I’ll probably go with him, unless my job won’t let me.

It was the thought though of being left behind that brought me up short. Then he had to bring up deploying. I know I’ll survive it, but I will not like it.

B handled my blues really well. Made me work out, which helped, let me cry afterwards, though that admittedly makes him anxious. And then he spent the afternoon cheering me up. If I had asked for the moon today he’d have tried to give it to me.

It didn’t keep him from creaming me at putt putt. He beat me by some 30 points. The course was evil. Majorly evil. But fun. I’d go back and do it again, preferably when I feel less like crying so that I can enjoy my abject humiliation.

We have our travel dates now, which helps. I can now count down the days I have left in the country. This helps by giving me a visible deadline. It’s a little scary, but I always do better with a game plan. As of Wednesday we’ll know when our stuff is being picked up and we’ll get to make real plans.

My biggest concern is not getting to go home before I leave. I probably won’t. It would take a miracle for me to get to see my family before the move. But, in spite of my nerves, I’ll be strong. Or at least let my husband bolster me with buzzed movie nights and pillow fights.

~The Countess~


About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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