Monday, January 09, 2006

Wanting to quote John Denver, but...

I have a love-hate relationship with Terminal B at Logan. I've said too many goodbyes there on the curb and, before 9-11, inside at the gate, and left from there for too many places where I knew I couldn't stay. That's partially because I have a strange history of long distance relationships and lots of those involved drama, of the emotional or time-constrained variety, staged at Terminal B. It's a place that I can't wait to be, can't stand to leave and can't wait to get away from, all at the same time. But it's been a long time since I've cried there, at least until tonight.

It's somewhat ironic (even if only in the pseudo-irony Alanis Morrisette sense) that I love travelling but my job doesn't let me out of the local office, yet I'm dating someone who would rather be at home but has to travel every week for work. Usually Lunchboy gets to visit such fabulous, cosmopolitan locales as White Plains, NY, Lenoire, NC, Springfield, MA and various smelly towns in NJ which, while outside the greater Boston area, are not what I'd call enviable destinations. Today, however, he left for a week in Manchester, England, which is home, of course, to Manchester United (insert Eurotrip parody of choice here).

Lucky dog.

Jealousy aside (I would have gone but my passport is still locked somewhere in the renewal process, hopefully to be released before we leave for St. Lucia in a few weeks), saying goodbye just sucks. And saying goodbye is part of the nature of his job. I knew that going in and most of the time it doesn't bother me that he's gone every week from Monday through Thursday. But I can't help resenting it just a little when his job takes him away more than that.

In the past, I've done anywhere from one week to four months away from my significant other at the time. Lots of people do a hell of a lot more than that. So I know that in the context of things this isn't that big a deal. But he just got home on Friday afternoon and he left again tonight, and as much as I hate being girly, I couldn't keep a tight leash on the tears. The pavement outside Terminal B has soaked up lots of those.

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