Love as love
Well, when people ask me how I manage being married to someone whose work involves constant traveling around the country and occasionally to other countries for many days at a time, I apply a quote from Captain Awkward:
"...day to day during their separations the most they ever had to go on was “If we both survive this, I promise to try really hard to still love you” because that’s all anyone has ever had to go on."
This quote was applied to her grandparents while her grandfather was in the military and this far more intense than working across the country for two weeks. However, it applies to many, many things. It applies to couples of any status going through, well, anything.
Actually, my ultimate favorite was always from "The Princess Bride" (both book and film). You know, the scene in which Westley wanted to first make money across the sea so he could marry Buttercup properly: "Hear this now: I will always come for you." And much later, upon meeting with Buttercup after his supposed death and her arranged marriage: "Death cannot stop true love. What it can do is delay it for a while."
Years ago, my husband wrote, in soap, on the bedroom mirror "I will always come for you" and drew a long-stemmed rose alongside. It will be there until the mirror goes away.
That's the core. That's the cornerstone. "I will always come for you." He will always come back to me. When he was working outside the country for two straight weeks, when it was too expensive to call, he would arrange video chats via cell phone, preceded by a quick text; luckily we were in the same time zone this time. Even if we can't communicate for a while, we know we will be reunited soon enough.
The result is good money for bills and food and necessities and small luxuries, and his travel is worth that. Since I am disabled and literally, officially unable to work by government standards, earning a bit of Social Security Disability Insurance monthly, it is up to him to make the bulk of the payments - and we are unbelievably lucky and grateful to have a tiny mortgage and small bills and are surrounded by nearly a dozen varied food markets, shops, and stores that I, unable to drive, can access by public transport. We make sure to stock up on things I and our three cats will need for however long he will be out of the state. I am lucky that my disabilities don't hinder me from getting around, doing some light shopping, cleaning the house poorly, etc. I'm very introverted and very good at being my own company while he's gone.
We are aware of the privileges we have and don't have with this life, and that is important. It's very easy to say, "It could be worse..." but it's an overused phrase for me. We have our problems and issues and near-misses (traveling as an IT/AV technician sometimes means getting injured, getting damaged, or just missing a fatal injury; arguments happen all the time and are quickly resolved because we hate fighting; no doctor appointments set until we know when he has time, etc). We do everything every other couple does, just often at a distance.
And you know, we started out at the very end of the 20th century. All we had were house phones, simple emails, simple instant messaging. We didn't get cell phones until we were already living together. Social media was barely more than blog posts and message forums. We've been doing this for so long that we're experts and pros. And yet... I still really don't know what to tell people. Because I can only explain what works for the two of us, which might not work for others.
I will admit that I do still roll my eyes when someone cries because their partner will be away for "a day or two" - particularly if it seems dramatic. I absolutely bite my tongue and resist that urge to play the Suffering Olympics, because I'm a jerk like everyone else and I'll be judgmental. But I will sympathize and empathize deeply enough to care about their concerns. Because you don't know what will happen.
And so, to the people I forgot to respond to in the first place, here is your answer: I still don't know how I make this work. It's a long distance marriage born out of a long distance relationship. It works because we were friends and will always be friends. It works because I am amenable and casual and I like being alone and he likes traveling and his work and adventuring, and we love each other and we like each other so much that we just... know. You just know. You know? I guess?
I'm sorry that got so vague and incoherent near the end, but I cannot explain it much better. It's a thing you have to work out and work at. You have to know, feel, and understand yourself and your partner; you have to completely commit to knowing that plans will change constantly and you will be sleeping alone for a week. You have to want this life. I think a huge part of it might be never taking the relationship for granted. Not the love, not the like, not the good days, not the bad days. And I mean, really meaning it. Also, saying "I love you" as much as possible always helps.
"...day to day during their separations the most they ever had to go on was “If we both survive this, I promise to try really hard to still love you” because that’s all anyone has ever had to go on."
This quote was applied to her grandparents while her grandfather was in the military and this far more intense than working across the country for two weeks. However, it applies to many, many things. It applies to couples of any status going through, well, anything.
Actually, my ultimate favorite was always from "The Princess Bride" (both book and film). You know, the scene in which Westley wanted to first make money across the sea so he could marry Buttercup properly: "Hear this now: I will always come for you." And much later, upon meeting with Buttercup after his supposed death and her arranged marriage: "Death cannot stop true love. What it can do is delay it for a while."
Years ago, my husband wrote, in soap, on the bedroom mirror "I will always come for you" and drew a long-stemmed rose alongside. It will be there until the mirror goes away.
That's the core. That's the cornerstone. "I will always come for you." He will always come back to me. When he was working outside the country for two straight weeks, when it was too expensive to call, he would arrange video chats via cell phone, preceded by a quick text; luckily we were in the same time zone this time. Even if we can't communicate for a while, we know we will be reunited soon enough.
The result is good money for bills and food and necessities and small luxuries, and his travel is worth that. Since I am disabled and literally, officially unable to work by government standards, earning a bit of Social Security Disability Insurance monthly, it is up to him to make the bulk of the payments - and we are unbelievably lucky and grateful to have a tiny mortgage and small bills and are surrounded by nearly a dozen varied food markets, shops, and stores that I, unable to drive, can access by public transport. We make sure to stock up on things I and our three cats will need for however long he will be out of the state. I am lucky that my disabilities don't hinder me from getting around, doing some light shopping, cleaning the house poorly, etc. I'm very introverted and very good at being my own company while he's gone.
We are aware of the privileges we have and don't have with this life, and that is important. It's very easy to say, "It could be worse..." but it's an overused phrase for me. We have our problems and issues and near-misses (traveling as an IT/AV technician sometimes means getting injured, getting damaged, or just missing a fatal injury; arguments happen all the time and are quickly resolved because we hate fighting; no doctor appointments set until we know when he has time, etc). We do everything every other couple does, just often at a distance.
And you know, we started out at the very end of the 20th century. All we had were house phones, simple emails, simple instant messaging. We didn't get cell phones until we were already living together. Social media was barely more than blog posts and message forums. We've been doing this for so long that we're experts and pros. And yet... I still really don't know what to tell people. Because I can only explain what works for the two of us, which might not work for others.
I will admit that I do still roll my eyes when someone cries because their partner will be away for "a day or two" - particularly if it seems dramatic. I absolutely bite my tongue and resist that urge to play the Suffering Olympics, because I'm a jerk like everyone else and I'll be judgmental. But I will sympathize and empathize deeply enough to care about their concerns. Because you don't know what will happen.
And so, to the people I forgot to respond to in the first place, here is your answer: I still don't know how I make this work. It's a long distance marriage born out of a long distance relationship. It works because we were friends and will always be friends. It works because I am amenable and casual and I like being alone and he likes traveling and his work and adventuring, and we love each other and we like each other so much that we just... know. You just know. You know? I guess?
I'm sorry that got so vague and incoherent near the end, but I cannot explain it much better. It's a thing you have to work out and work at. You have to know, feel, and understand yourself and your partner; you have to completely commit to knowing that plans will change constantly and you will be sleeping alone for a week. You have to want this life. I think a huge part of it might be never taking the relationship for granted. Not the love, not the like, not the good days, not the bad days. And I mean, really meaning it. Also, saying "I love you" as much as possible always helps.