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Countdown to His Deployment: Making the Move

Up until this past summer, I was still living in my college town. Instead of preparing for my future, I had instead spent my senior year drinking away the thought that it was all about to end soon. And, in doing so, I had completely shit away any chance I had to leave. I decided to stay another year, working full time and still enjoying the company of my friends who were still in school. It was a slightly regrettable decision, but also the best option at the time. As time went on, I realized that college partying needed to stay in college. I knew that I couldn’t stay past my lease but had no clue where to go.

It had been a year, maybe a little longer since I had last talked to him. I honestly couldn’t tell you what made us stop talking. Even after he had graduated, moved home, and joined the Marine’s, we had always kept in contact. Maybe I had started dating someone, or I had drunkenly said something to piss him off, but either way he deleted my number.

So, being the true gentleman that he was, he snapped me asking if I would like to accompany him at the Marine Ball that year. If I had any self-respect at the time, I would have told his ass that to ask a lady on a date, you at least must do so via phone call. Luckily for both of us, my desperation to do something other than get drunk off dollar shots and waking up in a room with a frat flag, far outweighed the little self-worth I had left.

I made the plans to go visit him down in San Diego and told my dad I would stop by his house while I was in town. Astonishingly, my dad mentioned that he would have an apartment opening the month before my lease ends, and that I could check it out while I was there. It seemed everything was falling into place.

A few months later, my flight touched down in San Diego. I was expecting to be filled with lust when I saw him, to pick up where we left off as friends with benefits, like we had for the past few years. What I wasn’t expecting was to see him sitting on the tailgate of his truck, looking like a scene from a Taylor Swift music video circa 2007, and that it would work.

I felt an immediate draw to him. The next few days were spent filled with amazing, deep hearted conversations, and even better sex. The minutes seemed to stretch for days, but at the end of it all the days felt like minutes. I was devastated to go back. I wanted nothing more than to stay with him, in the new apartment I fell in love with, and for the new life I couldn’t help but get lost in the fantasy of.

The next few months I spent longing for him. I spent most days daydreaming of being back on the same side of the state with him, and most nights curled up on the phone with him. I knew it was stupid. No real story starts with “and then I saw him and fell in love and it actually worked out.” But as the months stretched on and we continued this long-distance routine, my feelings became more obvious and unavoidable.

Finally, as my father helped me pack up my U-Haul, and I said goodbye to the people I had spent the last five years of my life with, I set off to experience the next step in my life. I will say, I do understand how insane I sound. If any of my friends told me that a boy, especially one that they didn’t have the most stable history with, was a major factor in their move, I would probably slap them. That is stupid, ridiculous, and overall pretty poor fucking decision making.

But for right now, it seems to have worked out. I love my friends, my job, my apartment, and I love being so close to him. I have ensured to have a balanced and fulfilling life in my town, so that if we don’t work out, I have more here than just him. And even if we don’t make it, I know that the move down here will always be worth it.

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