N______ _______, Day 76. 76 Days of Waiting for Tomorrow
Long-distance relationships. Like many people (well, the few) I know who’ve been in this situation, I honestly did not think that I’d ever be in a long-distance relationship. Strangely, now that I think about it, Katya and I have unfortunately had half our relationship in one: 6 months (3 last summer, with occasional weekend trips; 3 right now) and 6 months together at the same uni. (I’m rounding up. Our one-year anniversary is technically April 18…wow, it feels so weird to say that. In a good way.)
Somehow, we’ve made it work. At times, there’s a numbness in which I know there’s someone out there who misses me and I miss her too, but it’s a phantom, a memory. I forget what it feels like to kiss. To hold her in my arms. I forgot her phone number, but thankfully not the memory of her voice. The few skypes a week and daily emails in the morning and evening help to an extent. And the pictures of her. And us.
But finally the relationship will be more than a memory. Today was the day we were able to say ‘see you tomorrow’. She’s currently flying over somewhere in the middle of the US, maybe reached the Atlantic, but with the time zone change, I can’t begin to guess. But she’s on her way.
Today, after the last Romanticism seminar (which Stef slept through), I knew that I had to keep to my promise and finish the first drafts of my two essays before Katya’s arrival. The essays are due next Thursday. It took me a week and a half to narrow down my research for the Shelley paper. Yesterday for the Dickens paper, it took me an hour. Last week and Wednesday, I spent more than fifteen hours writing on Shelley. For Dickens, I started this morning with a partially formed introduction and in 6 and a half hours, I had a draft of 2250 words (oops, should be 2000, but it’s a draft). As much as I want to change from procrastinating, the pressure stimulates me, gives me rhythm. Luckily, I felt pressure to finish the drafts early.
I also did something I haven’t done in a while. After consulting my tutor on the Dickens paper this morning, I went to my room, turned on meditative music, and slept for an hour and a half. But it was half-sleeping. Half-meditating—meditateeping (met-a-teeping)? My breathing fell into a protracted rhythm, unusual when I sleep, and upon getting up, I was as refreshed as if I had gotten all the 8 hours of sleep I should’ve gotten last night.
Today was another sunny day, crowds of people in front of the ziggurat terraces (Norfolk and Suffolk) and in the square at the heart of campus life. I again did not participate. I’m inclined to work first, play later if I can help it. Or rather, I can’t help but do it that way usually. Guilt. It gets to me.
But I really plan to be more social (I mean at uni—yes, I went to Dublin last weekend). And this is where I give a shout-out to Liam, who I haven’t seen in awhile. But that should change soon. Along with Stef, Helen, and that whole house (with the narrow stairway). And Abs, Jasmine, their friends. And my flatmates. On another note, which I forgot to mention this week, both Marie and Stephen have returned to the flat as of last Saturday and this past Monday respectively. Broken arm and (formerly) deathly ill, in a relationship together too.
Now before signing off, if you scan through the past days of blog entries, excluding the Dublin ones, you’ll find a pattern: each day a letter has been removed from my traditional location-day blog opening format, ‘Norfolk Terrace’. It was a countdown. Tomorrow is _______ _______. Not Norfolk Terrace, London.
3 Days in London. 2 Days in Norwich. 4 Days in Paris.
With Katya.
No comments:
Post a Comment