What we swore we’d never do again, we’re doing. Mr B is currently on an assignment overseas. Neither of us know at this stage when he’ll be back.
The truth is that Long Distance Relationships (LDRs) are hard, particularly when there is no end point in sight.
LDR test relationships, particularly when your relationship is not at its best to begin with.
For the first time, it is us who are struggling. And that is making me fear the distance more than ever; with its sporadic, truncated communication (long working days & time zones) and the draw of new challenges and locales.
On the one hand the assignment is good – it’s a new set of skills for him; it’s safeguarding his job (damn you recession) and it’s giving him some time for himself, to reflect during an annus horribilis.
For me, left behind, the prospect of a long LDR is also bittersweet. We’ve got into a rut, things have been too routine. We’ve taken each other for granted.
I’m finding inspiration from incredibly strong military wives who go through this process permanently and repeatedly (hat tip to you ladies) and from other expats in the same position (thank you Betsy TransAtlantic & Belinda at Found Love, Now What? for your advice!)
I’m trying to look at this as ‘me’ time. A chance to reach out and reconnect with old friends, to have the time to try and make new friends. To prove to myself that I can be strong and independent. I’m conscious that depression has left Mr B in the role of parent too often. So the LDR, I’m hoping, can give me some space to reclaim myself. To get to grips with some projects that have been languishing for too long.
Perhaps even to be a better wife.