The truth is that I can hardy wait, it's so bad that I can't concentrate...
Sam comes home today. Good God. We've been through a lot of ups and downs since he's been abroad, but I am still terribly in love with him and I can't wait to go meet up with his fam later today, then go get him from the airport! I hate complaining on lj, but now that this 3 months is over, I can finally let myself feel how hard it's been. I think my brain/heart knew how bad it was going to be, and I realize that I just sort of shutdown the day he left. So much so that I couldn't turn to my awesome fam and friends to get through it. So much so that I 4.0 pointed last semester, and this semester I got a 3.3. This is what has gotten me through it: cigarettes, SVU, smirnoff, American Idol, death cab/postal service. And much more: workouts, smokes, chipotle, and mixed cd's with Dan, 3 am visits from Eli and staying up all night speaking hebrew, muskegon lunches and hangouts with Man, partying and fun times with Chrissy, chess and espresso after work with Gary, dorm dinners with the boys, frustrating CAPA parties with Adam, and texts/im's from ekika and lovers. These probably seem like really small lame things, but they literally are what's kept me going since February.
About a month into him being gone this song came up one morning on my shuffle, and I think Sam and I both listened to it about 9000 times since. It's by The Mountain Goats, who we went saw is Kzoo when we were first dating [better if one of us were in Georgia, but it works].
The most remarkable thing about coming home to you
is the feeling of being in motion again.
It's the most extraordinary thing in the world.
I have two big hands and a heart pumping blood
and a 1967 Colt .45 with a busted safety catch.
The world shines as I cross the Macon county line
going to Georgia.
The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway
Is that it's you.
And that you're standing in the doorway.
And you smile as you ease the gun from my hands
and I'm frozen with joy right where I stand
The world throws its light underneath your hair,
forty miles from Atlanta, this is nowhere, going to Georgia.