I Get By With a Little Help

This weekend I jetted off to see Marco in his timezone and was reminded that United Airlines is the devil.

I was sitting on a 200-seat plane only 30% full and when I attempted to sit in the exit row to give the mom and her kid next to me some space, the flight attendant reminded me that the exit row was reserved for people who paid $39 to sit there. I looked at him incredulously and patiently attempted to explain the economics behind customer retention in a case like this (i.e. why does it matter if I sit here? I'm not robbing anyone of a seat and a little customer service in a case like this might make me use United again), but to no avail. He sent me back to my seat. So there I was, crammed in with two other people when there were 140 other seats open.

It seems to me that United's business model looks a little bit like this:

Zero knowledge of basic economics + Lack of employee empowerment + Underpaid flight attendants = Sucky Airline

Not to mention that getting in and out of airports like Hartsfield, LAX, Newark, and O'Hare is basically a lost cause 93% of the time. (Don't even get me started on Philadelphia or Denver).

Ok, end of United rant.

So...as I was saying, I went to see Marco this weekend. People tend to complain a lot about long distance relationships, and some of those gripes are certainly warranted. On the other hand, I tend to find that it has its positive effects as well. For one, you're always super excited to see the other person on the weekends. Secondly, you tend to find out pretty quickly whether or not you want to be together, since nothing is easier than to just stop calling. It's the perfect out for commitment-phobes. No confrontation. No guilt. No seeing the other person all over town. Just silence. (Pretty shitty, I know. I'm not condoning this as a method, but it's a possibility.)

Since the beginnings of our relationship, Marco and I have gone through various phases: same-city dating, love-nesting, mini-long distance, mid-long distance, and super-long distance. Maybe next year we'll both move back to Europe and find a nice apartment together in a big bustling city so we can take a crack at a life together, but for now we're still flying and time-zone hopping.

I always wonder how it is possible for me to be so happy with Marco and simultaneously feel such grief over Raf. Now, mind you, Marco has known about Raf from the beginning. I'm always very up-front with the person with whom I'm in a relationship in that respect. However, I'm also smart enough to know that sitting around all day complaining about how I miss Raf and feel betrayed is not that great for my relationship. Since the feelings come and go in phases I just tend to let them wash over me and then move on with them properly stowed away.

Raf wrote to me a week before his wedding: "I think about you often - every day, really - and most days I get a lump in my throat." That pretty much sums up how I feel as well. But it's never a lump that prevents me from living my life - it just confuses me enough to blog about it! You must be wondering whether all I do is sit around all day and pine. Luckily that is not the case, although I do have days when I feel like everything I do is marked by Raf's memory. In that sense it's a lot like the death of a loved one - at least that's how it usually feels to me since I have no contact with him and basically zero hope of ever seeing him again.

On the phone with Lex last night, I wondered if losing Raf would've hurt less if I hadn't, well, lost him. If we had just remained friends but faded out of each others' lives over the next 20 years, would it feel the same? Lex posited that it would not - that I would come to terms with it on my own and eventually no longer wake up every day thinking about it. I agree to a certain extent - Raf's departure was made worse by its emotional violence, but that doesn't mean it would have been any better had he still married Ingrid and I'd had to live with her insecurity and control issues (which Alice and Lyla sagely pointed out) for the rest of my life. So, what's better? I guess I'll never know. All I can deal with is the present.

I was standing in the shower with Marco on Sunday, shampooing my hair, when I suddenly felt the water move from just over my head to exactly the right spot on top of it. Then I felt a kiss on my neck. When I opened my eyes, Marco was soaping himself as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Without me saying anything, he had seen that I had been standing far forward in the tub to rinse my hair and had subtly realigned the shower head to make it easier for me. It was such a simple thing to do, yet so emblematic of who he is as a person. Later that day, we drove to the airport:

SaN: I hate leaving you. It always feels so permanent.
Marco: I know - I hate it, too.
SaN: But at least we have a lot more weekends together, right?
Marco: ....and hopefully an entire life.
SaN: *Blush*

It's moments like those two that make me realize that if I hadn't been through all of this bullshit with Raf, I may have never met Marco in the first place. And so, whenever I'm feeling a wee bit too sorry for myself and cursing Raf for breaking my heart, I look up at this wonderful man who takes the time to know how I like my eggs, to tell me the truth about what I look good in, to know what all my little body language cues mean, to indulge my handbag addiction just enough (but still steer me away from the $1,000 Gucci bags in Milan), to figure out how he can get me to like fish, and to adjust the shower head when my face is full of soap. And then I realize how lucky I am - not just to have him, but also to have friends like Cian and Lex who know the difference between a moment of anguish and senseless wallowing and have the kindness to tell me when I've crossed the line between the two.

When I think about these things, a small "thank you" goes up to whatever force compels our universe to keep existing and I know that I will eventually make peace with this storm in my head.

In the meantime, I'll have Raf's photos to remind me of all that was good between us until one day I am able to forgive him.