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My girlfriend lives 501 miles away from me. I can't go see her without spending a bare minimum of $400. Used to be twice a month and now it's maybe once a month that I see her. Yeah, I know. It's a pretty sweet setup. While some of you would probably kill to only have to see your significant other once every 45 days, that's not how I see things. I'm not happy about it.
Recent events led to a situation where she could have been out of her job and apartment within a one week window and I was preparing to move her here. There's more to it than that, of course. She's not currently doing what she really wants to do with herself, there are some commitments that need to be fulfilled, and plenty of other things to consider.
It should be noted that our plans have been to get together, just not where I am or where she is. Those plans have been delayed considerably because of the economy and my job situation.
Needless to say, I want her here. For many reasons. I could go into it more, but the point isn't to air all the laundry or rally support for my view.
She decided to stay.
The gambler in me would have bet the farm on her coming here. That's because I know the line would have been set for a better payout that way. Vegas would have set the line like this:
Staying -750
Moving +700
In other words, the odds were against her leaving. I could see that for a variety of reasons, though I would have bet Moving for my entire bankroll anyways. If the situation came up again, I'd run right out to put my money down on her moving. No second thoughts.
Why?
Because I believe it's the right, and smart, thing to do. Not to call her reasoning and her decision the opposite of smart. It's what I believe. Me. She clearly believes differently. There isn't anything to render her thoughts less important or viable or whatever. I bet on my favorite teams even when I know they're going to lose. (See Detroit Lions. Every. Game.) I'd rather hold that ticket of hope, no matter the chances, then give in to seeing things in a way I can't get with.
I can't help but look at things from a different perspective. It's what makes me me. It's why I'm special in a non-retard way. But here's why I'm writing about it:
Because it hurts. Because her decision was a frustrating cocktail of crushered soul and gut-punch to me. On ice. With umbrellas and fruit.
She didn't mean it that way. It is, however, how it feels.
Tough (Really tough) to know that I'm (hopefully) one of the more important people in her life, but even the least important person within a hundred miles of her will get to spend more time with her than me. Hard to shake the feeling that I wasn't "chosen". As if my best friend decided not to pick me up on his kickball team, and when the other captain didn't either, I end up not playing at all. Watching from the sidelines while everyone has fun, laughing and sharing random moments together. Difficult to look at finances, think and plan for the future, and realize it's going to be longer and longer between visits at this rate. Longer and longer to do prep for the expensive things that come with time. Painful to have, even if they're irrational, thoughts that I'm just a sideline player in all of this. It just blows.
I wrote an angry woe-is-me rant (forgive me jebus, but I used punctuation) to a friend this morning to help blow off some steam. I decided to joke around about what the cost of a long distance relationship is, well, costing me.
I could buy a brand new set of golf clubs every month.
I could go to Vegas every month.
I could vacation every other month in Europe.
I could sponsor a whole village of bloated baby Ethiopians.
I could pay bums to fight each other every week for my enjoyment.
I could spend every other weekend in Windsor getting rub and tugs and going to the Beer Store.
I could make it rain on an ugly stripper of my choosing twice a month.
I could yell "DANCE MONKEY!" at waiters, then tip enough to make up for it.
I could buy a new toilet every month instead of cleaning my current one.
I could afford to punch holes in the wall when I lose bets in the last minute of a game.
I could afford to get fatter and have cash for a whole new elastic-friendly wardrobe.
I could buy entire blocks of Detroit.
I could finally give expensive narcotics a try.
Thanks for letting me get things off my chest. Make sure to read comments where Joaquin will no doubt call me a fag and a D-Lister.
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7 comments:
Maybe if your junk didn't bridge the 501 miles, she would have moved. It is a blessing and a curse.
That is some seriously unfortunate bullshit. Sorry to hear it.
And what Chilly said.
Space is good, 501 miles is not.
Maybe I'll come visit so we could burn down a block of Detroit to make you feel better.
The junk issue is a sensitive one. Because I can't see that far I sometimes hook a fatty on accident.
Drizzle, you come to the D and we'll certainly burn down a few buildings. It's how we welcome out of towners.
Sucky situations call for desperate measures.
You must. regrow. beard.
not even your huge junk could lure her to your drug dealing den in D-troit... ouch.
but seriously - when did you become such a sensitive b-yatch?
love,
KD
The Rooster was going to write something very mean here. But the truth is that pain fucken sucks, even for a D-Lister like yourself. One who has no soul or purpose with a blog...there shouldn't be pain for you. Yet, The Rooster will side with The Rooster's good heart on this one and keep quiet.
Yet, I sit here wondering...maybe she likes being striking distance from a Mexican who lives on the upper-west-side of Manhattan.
The Rooster now has something in common with The Bracelet when he roots for The Bracelet. They booth root for losers. The Bracelet, the Lions. I, The Rooster, root for Little Bracelet (hear that ladies: Little Bracelet).
The Roooster
Post script - I have been going out on the town every single night this past month. Not much happening here...not sure why she would want to stay here. Wait, she doesn't really live "IN THE CITY" even more so I can't see why she wouldn't go....maybe something to do with "LITTLE" Bracelet...hear that ladies: Little Bracelet.
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