Okay, so my amazing husband is currently in Boston on business. He is gone for literally LESS than 72 hours. As of right now, he has been gone for 19 hours. I’ll be honest. I hate it when he goes on business trips. I always picture that I’ll have this fun-filled bachelorette-type time to get a manicure, drink long islands with my girlfriends and catch up on my favorite Gilmore Girl Episodes. Only one of those things ever comes true and it’s because I don’t have to move off my couch.
When in truth, the horror begins a few days before I know he has to go. I insist on spending every waking moment hanging out, trying to get in all the fun couple time we can before he goes. I have no idea why I do this. We literally hang out ALL the time anyway.
So then I have to drive him to the airport (this time was at 5:00 AM! YES IN THE MORNING) and I always imagine it’s going to be this beautiful, teary goodbye.
But usually its him hurriedly kissing me because he’s worried he’ll miss his flight because he loves sleeping as long as he can.
Then usually about 20 minutes after I have driven away from the airport, I feel the first pangs of sadness settle over me. My best buddy is not here. I find myself overwhelmed with sorrow and I have to pull my car over so I can make a rambling, incoherent message on his answering machine that he probably won’t check until he gets back home. It’s usually interspersed with moments of me gulping and trying to hold back tears. Please note: Elapsed time since his departure? 20 minutes.
Then I get sick to my stomach as I wait for a message from him to confirm that he’s reached his destination safely. This can take several hours. Several excruciating hours. In these hours, I often find myself eating bad food and watching Netflix.In fact, the last time he was gone and I went through the drive through, the kind man asked me how I was doing and I burst out with how sad I was that my husband was away on business. I would like to note that McDonalds employees are surprisingly kind and patient in listening to rambling stories.
Then suddenly, like a ray of sunshine I get an e-mail on my phone to say he has landed A-OK! I feel momentary joy! Yay! He’s safe! I can stop being worried!
It takes about an hour before the despair overtakes me. But I usually have to work so for a couple hours I am distracted from this. But when I get home to my empty condo (aside from our cat) all I can think is, “he’s not here.” and drag myself dejectedly from room to room. I promise myself I won’t check the e-mail for more messages because hello, he is on business and cannot write to me all day. Even though I logically know this, I am still sad when I see 0 new messages from him.
This is about the time I notice the cat’s baleful glances at me. I know exactly what he is thinking.
The worst is yet to come. After staving off sleep as much as I can, I finally collapse into our King Sized Bed which feels like an icy tundra when I’m lying there by myself.
And when I feel like I may just be drifting off to sleep, I hear a strange CREAK noise from somewhere within my home.
My sleep does not go well the entire time he is gone. I usually end up spending the night in my mom’s guestroom, because I’m almost 30 and apparently ghosts are a genuine concern for me.
Undoubtedly my dear husband will Skype me as soon as he is able to and the time difference allows. And after the initial, “What is the hotel like?” inquiry, the conversation undoubtedly goes like this.
PSA: I’m not always this pathetic and needy, I SWEAR. Just when he goes on business trips.