Well, my husband has left me...

for his first Big Boy Business Trip. And I am sad, because this is only the second time we've been apart since we got married. In our almost two years of marriage, we've only spent four nights apart, and now we are adding four more. We didn't make any You Can Never Leave Home pacts when we got married, it has just sort of worked out that we rarely had any place to go that didn't involve the other person. (Also, having limited finances helps. It's hard to whirl off on vacation when you try to buy a plane ticket and your credit card gets rejected). Add full-time jobs and school and bands and making movies, and well, there's no time to go anywhere anyways.

But I think when it comes down to it - and I thought this as I left the airport with little tears squirting out of the corner of my eyes as dramatically as possible - Joshua and I just like to be together. We don't get bored, we don't get annoyed with each other's presence in our apartment, and we have all these little, sickeningly domestic routines that we both like to follow. We argue aggressively (but that's not boring), we definitely get annoyed (again, not boring, and not due to our living situation), and we can't stand anyone else in the world for the duration of time we can stand each other. Even with our work/school/not ideal situation, we manage to have lunch together almost every day. I couldn't have lunch every day with my very best friends in the whole world. I'd want to smack them upside the head (in a very non-violent manner).

It sounds slightly sickening and cute, but isn't that the point? I mean, that's why I got married - not to cook, or keep house, or to be domestic or settle down (even the words "settle down" make me want to go out and do tequila shots). I got married because I I found someone that I could not and would not want to go one day without. I know that not everyone's relationship is like this - some people need more space, more literal aloneness. I need my time alone, but I like to have it in the same time zone as my husband.

However, I think he was glad to leave Chicago on what I am now calling Black Monday, or possibly Blame It On the (Purple)Rain, or alternatively Damn You Bad Rex For Showing Up in Miami and Crushing Our Dreams Day. I might be emotionally distraught over a week without Joshua, but I have not forgotten the pain of last night. This is what happens when you move to a new city and become caught up in their sports fanaticism. When you are from New England, and your football team gets to the Super Bowl, they WIN (go pats!). Then you move to Chicago, and not only have you had almost a lifetime of crushed baseball dreams back home (I say almost because WE BROKE THE CURSE!!), now you inherit two more heartbreaker teams. Yeah, I mean you, Bears and Cubs.

It's too much.