Slapping on the Shellac

We're down to crunch time and I'm trying to squeeze every last drop of every last day out with my partner before I leave. Only problem is, he's working 10 hours a day and I'm in a million different directions (see previous blogs for slightly boring details). But this isn't how it's suppose to be is it? Shouldn't we be spending our last couple of days, hours, minutes together, gawking into one another eyes, reaffirming our dedication to one another, and telling each other not to worry?

Nope, reality check. We've both got shit to do and places to be. And although I sometimes find it hard to reign in my Disney-infused fantasies of good-bye love stories, made only worse by a fetish for watching Sex in the City reruns, I've realised that these last days do not have to be sparklingly perfect (yes, I know sparkling-ly is not a word but I think it fits here), filled to the brim with just one another. They just have to be.

In fact, my partner is going off to play golf with a couple of his buddies this coming Sunday while I sit in a coffee shop and continue to write "the-paper-that-will-never-end" for my geography course. While he did run his plans by me before he agreed to them, we had already concluded that every moment before I leave doesn't need to be an 'us' moment. And just because I'm leaving doesn't negate the context of our respective situations. My partner left his friends and family behind as well as myself, when he moved up north to find work. Thus, when the opportunity for golf strikes well, he should take it because life came before, and life will go on (outside of my departure). Sidenote: why do I feel like an 80 year old sitting on a veranda in an old spaghetti Western, right now? I'm incredibly cheesy and I love it.

Frankly, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place if we both weren't independent people, following our own paths. I just think it's hard to find a happy medium in my head at times because I am a female: with feminist ideals; who has a mother who came from a traditional background (in terms of family values and roles); who has an opportunity to research in the Netherlands to complete a PhD; who grew up watching Disney cartoons and reading Sweet Valley High. Now, I'm not sure what that last example had to do with it all but let's just say there are mixed emotions and expectations running through my head concerning how to spend my last days.

So instead of slapping on some shellac to the remaining days that I have, trying to make them shine like glossy Disney-coated memories, I'll choose 'the everyday' because it's seemed to work for us so far. Yeehaw cowboy.