111 Days To Go

Odd days come and go much like the passing weathers. There are those days you are as high as life may take you and there are those days where the slightest discrepancy makes the day redundant. More and more, I seem to be suffering the latter and less of the former. I'm think it's probably to do with 'end-of-term syndrome', where I'm too looking forward to going back to home that I'm down that I'm not there yet. The real problem it presents is that, with under 16 weeks to go, it's taking a toll on me and Steven. I find myself progressively looking towards him as a source of happiness, which he only now sees to be the key to cheering me up, not stabilising fun and flirtation. I guess I'm still reeling from just how bad last week was and just how low it set me.

I seem to prove, at every turn, every doubt anyone ever had over me.

In the same vein of judgement, a thought arose. Year 2 at Uni is coming up and, far be it from me to be worried about things (when has that ever happened before?!), re-elections are coming up. I asked for a chance and they, very kindly, gave me my chance. Re-election means: did you screw up your chance? How the mighty might rise and fall. Something I pride myself on is being able to relate and reach out; I've gone through it all this year. Failing assignments, deaths in the family and I never took any of it lying down and I'll be damned that come the time of judgement from peers alike, I'll give it as good as I ever have done in fulfilling a role I've prided my life on for several months.

But I'll be damned if I'm making election badges.

The minutes are getting longer, it seems. The days seem to be finding new ways to stretch patience and I've found myself counting each day falling away as a victory. It hit me last night as I lay awake at 4:30am that in 111 days time, at that very point, I'll be getting ready to leave my house and take my plane to a love that travels as fast as light itself. Just for that first moment of embrace, when I finally can touch, see, feel, hear and taste a future. We have more than 3 months left, but that countdown never increases. It will come around, I'll drag it kicking and screaming to Tulsa. For that first moment of touch where a year of waiting vanishes within the first locking of lips. Where the days of arguments and tension disappear along with the fear and are replaced with euphoria and the sense of relief.

That, in Tulsa, I see my life. And, for the first time, I love every moment.