Life has become rather interesting of late.
My sweetie has gotten a job across the country. Though he first applied for this job back in May, he did not go out there for an interview until a few weeks ago. So from the interview until now it all seems very fast. But, it's done: he's accepted the job, and he's moving across the country in less than four weeks.
The irony does not escape us: we decided on getting married in NY because I couldn't face planning the wedding long distance (my parents live in CA). Now, with seven months to go, my sweetie is moving, and the question arises: do I follow now, or later?
I still can't face the long-distance planning, plus it unnerves us both to think of me quitting my job and losing my paycheck seven months before we're about to blow a big chunk of money on a wedding. So we have decided I will stay here, and move after the wedding.
I'm sad: I will miss my sweetie.
I'm freaked: I've agreed (for he did ask me before interviewing for/accepting the job) to give up my job, my home, my friends, my life, and move across the country. For a guy. I'm giving up my life for a guy.
Before he got this job, we had planned to move in together right about now: his lease is coming up, and rather than renew, he was either going to move in with me, or we were going to rent a new place together. This seems to be the pretty standard path I've seen most of my friends follow: live together, either before or after engagement, become entwined in each other's lives, then get married.
Now, instead, my sweetie will give me a kiss and essentially disappear (save for maybe a handful of visits) from my life for seven months, only to show up for the wedding. At which point we'll be joined for good, and I will have no trappings of my previous life but him and the home he's found for us.
I feel like a war bride, or a frontier wife, or something weirdly...old-fashioned.
It all seems very romantic, but I have to admit it's freaking me out. I'm not such the spontaneous type. I had a Plan. And while I understand that marriage involves change, I didn't expect such drastic change. And I didn't expect to be separated for so long beforehand. What if I forget what he looks like? (OK, I'm not really worried about this--consider it a metaphorical fear.)
I am also excited: I've wanted to try something new for a long time, and this is a great opportunity for it. I'll be glad to be back on the West Coast, and I love the thought of embarking on the adventure with the guy I love. I have no real fear that our relationship will fall apart under the stress. I think we've looked at the pros and cons of the move with pretty realistic eyes, and I think this is a good choice for us.
But the part of me that's gotten used to "Me," that has a very clear definition of "Me" as a single, urban woman with a job, who owns her own apartment and is very independent, thank you very much; the "Me" who made it to 37 without getting married, who wanted to be single throughout her 20s and didn't even start dating for real until she was 32; the "Me" who had her life planned out as the eccentric "Aunt" to all her friends' kids, elegant in caftans, art, and cats, letting the kids crash in her NYC condo when they were teens fed up with their parents; that "Me" is completely terrified. That "Me" is wondering if I'm making a huge mistake, putting all my eggs in the basket labeled with the name of one man. Can he handle it? Can I handle it?
Life has gotten very interesting.