I don't like living alone.
I knew when Brandon got a job back near his home town (which is really only a 35 minute drive away), that he wouldn't be here as much as I was used to. He would be staying with his parents, to make the commute shorter and the gas costs, well, not his problem. But I didn't realize the new place he got hired would decide to schedule him full 40 hour weeks! It's great for our finances, but not so great for our time spent together. Which is nill! I can't afford to drive back and forth, plus I have work right around the corner from where we are supposed to live. So I guess, for now, we work it out and learn how to adjust to not seeing each other quite as much.
I'm sure it's all corny and mushy, but there hasn't been any length of time longer than 48 hours in the last two years that we haven't spent time together. I'm used to having him around. Even if it is leaving his dish towel on the couch, playing video games all day, or stacking his clean laundry in the dirty laundry basket. I've become somewhat accustomed to that all. (Not that I want him to continue those habits when he returns any more than I did prior!)
There will be good points to it I'm sure, like watching anything I want on TV. Watching chick flicks when I feel necessary. Being just me, I get to make all my decisions alone now. You know, the super important ones like, "what should I eat for dinner?" and "does this shirt fit right on me?" No longer will I receive the professional input from my man. I suppose I could still pass those decisions by him, in hopes of things seeming normal again. But maybe, I'll try to make those decisions all on my own. Like a big girl. Nah... I don't want to be a big girl.