Grad School

Grad School

The other day I locked myself out of the apartment by accident. I’d left my keys inside one of my running shoes and forgotten to put them back on my main keyring. I felt very silly about it indeed, so I did the obvious thing: wrote about it and shared it on the internet. When I came home that night I discovered the house keys laid out on the kitchen counter.

This meant that the Curmudgeonly Lion had read my post and went looking for the keys when he got home from work. I was more than a little bit touched by this: first that he’d gone to the trouble of digging out the keys for me (even though this meant venturing into the questionable territory of my running shoes) and second that he’d read my post. I mean, I knew that he read my writing because he has told me so, but somehow this made it more real: like we were actually communicating. This in turn made me feel, again, a bit embarrassed, because it made me realize that quite a large proportion of my communication with my husband was taking place via virtual post-it note.

We have, at the moment, a correspondence marriage: I often get home after he’s fallen asleep. I see him for about twenty minutes in the morning on his way to work. We get to do dinner on (most) Tuesdays and (usually) Fridays. And we get weekends together if we’re not too busy. It’s a temporary arrangement while classes are in session.

I hope.

That is, I’d like to think that when I start working *for real* I will be working during professional hours- but in the profession of film making professional hours are ALL the hours: the show must go on and you work until the work is finished. Working equals success equals working. I like the work. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. But what about the Curmudgeonly Lion? Since I see so little of him I spend a lot of time thinking about him instead: is he happy? Does he enjoy having time to himself? Do I set aside enough time for him when I do have breaks? Does he know how grateful I am to have him supporting me as I chase down this dream? Can a marriage be healthy and strong even if both partners lead pretty independent lives? It certainly doesn’t help that denizens of the internet have proclaimed that marriage just doesn’t work anymore: whether or not I agree with this sentiment (I don’t, I happen to agree more with this) it would be nice if I didn’t have to fight off nagging doubts about the health of my marriage- especially when that marriage is being held together via e-mail and texting.

Hi, Honey- I'll be home late...

Hi, Honey- I’ll be home late…

It’s likely that I’m over-thinking this.

I’d rather over-think it than be blindsided by it later. Before I fall asleep at night I spend the time wishing for him to be happy and fortunate and thinking of ways I can make that happen. I try to tell him all this, but words feel inadequate for the depth of the feelings that I’m trying to convey. I hope he reads this because I’m often better at writing my thoughts down than saying them out loud, especially when it is something sentimental like how I can’t believe my good fortune in finding someone so supportive of my pursuit of my dreams. I have been given a marvelous gift, and I strive every day to be worthy of him.

Sentimental indeed. *sigh*


~ by Gwydhar Gebien on April 17, 2015.

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