A Year of Dan & Jo: June

June started with a post-op* check up to make sure I was healing properly from my surgery and to answer any questions I might still have. My scars weren’t looking as good as the surgeon would have liked and he seemed skeptical when I told him I had not, in fact, been tanning my lady garden (“Those scars need to be kept out of the sun!” “Uh, that part of my anatomy never sees the sun, believe me”) and that I was just someone who kept angry red scars around for a really long time and then they just healed up to nearly nothing. He told me to stop getting my scars in the sun (yay for medical professionals listening to women) and then informed me that they had needed to use a “manipulator” to move my uterus during the procedure and that’s why I’d had the period from hell. All future periods should be back to normal. A little heads up beforehand would have been nice. Ho hum.

Keeping busy while I waited for Dan to arrive was quite easy as I had a few concerts, theatre visits and dinners to go to. The weather was really hot and muggy which meant it was easy to get friends out of the house to join you for a drink on one of Amsterdam’s many terraces. After four whole weeks of waiting, I really needed the distraction of social gatherings which is saying quite a lot as I am a card-carrying introvert and would normally rather stay home where it’s just me and the pets. I really wanted Dan to be here.

In June, however, all we got was 48 hours. Nearly to the minute.

He arrived on Friday evening at around 7pm and I went to pick him up at the airport. I remember I wore a cute little skirt and top with adorable, though hugely impractical, little shoes and I spent ages on my hair and makeup. I had to look just right. Once I got to the airport I bought his train ticket before I went to the arrivals terminal so we wouldn’t  have to wait in line and could walk straight through to the train (every second counts, right?). Schiphol Airport has this lovely (sarcasm) quirk where if you’ve only got hand luggage there is a good chance you will come out of a different arrivals terminal than the information board says you will. Which is why I was standing at Arrivals 2 waiting for Dan and he came out of Arrivals 1. After a quick exchange of “where are you?” texts we met in the middle and I couldn’t squeeze him tight enough. We stood there grinning at each other for a silly amount of time and I could feel my cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much. I can’t describe how good that feeling is.

I wish I could tell you exactly what we got up to and I’m not even trying to be funny about that. My journal entry isn’t any more helpful than “Couldn’t wait to get him back home. Feels so amazing to have him here.” Which tells you exactly nothing but says everything.

We might have watched Orphan Black. Or not. Maybe we even put on a movie. I don’t think so, though. We walked the dogs together and we definitely spent a lot of time in bed and we definitely slept in. He was here and that was all that mattered.

On Saturday we drove to Ede to have dinner with my parents. This is significant because the whole visit, which includes an hour’s drive there and an hour back, took about six hours out of our 48 hour visit and it shows how cool Dan is that he agreed to it but also how much my parents like him that they asked if we were coming so they could see him again. Luckily Dan also likes my parents and it was a very lovely visit.

How happy do we look?

As soon as Dan and I sat on the couch my Dad got out the camera and started snapping pictures of us. He looked so pleased with himself. He said we looked so happy that he just had to have a picture of it. His enthusiasm was contagious and we spent the whole evening laughing and chatting. It was as though Dan had been there every Saturday dinner of the year so far. In a sense he had, as he was always in my pocket and my family regularly sent a HI DAN! message to him through me. Sometimes it was even a sound bite message, in chorus.

Saturday evening at my rents was fun but faster than I cared to think about, Sunday rolled around and, in a bit of a blind panic, we both tried to cram as much as possible into the few hours we had left.

We caught up on Orphan Black, we had a midday “nap”, we got take out from his favourite place downstairs, we had a long walk with the dogs and then, inevitably, the time to head back to the airport rolled around.

A sunny walk

My boys

Dan gathered up all his things and packed his bag, said goodbye to the animals and we headed to the train that would take us to the plane. I could tell Dan was having a really hard time this time and, in a rare role reversal, I was the one trying to be cheery and distract him. I think I did really well putting a brave face on it until the Kiss and Fly point at Departures. I didn’t think I’d be able to let go of him and then I realised he was crying onto my shoulder and then I couldn’t keep it dry anymore, either. As luck, and comedic timing, would have it, a rather large group of British guys walked by just as I lifted my head to sniffle and, in chorus, they all said “Aw, she’s crying! How romantic!” Dan just buried his head in my shoulder a bit more and kept his back to them.

I don’t know how long we stood there being everyone’s Sad Couple Saying Goodbye At The Airport but eventually we had to let go and he had to head to his gate. After the See You Soons” (lies, we wouldn’t see each other again until August) and the Take Cares and the I Had Such A Wonderful Times, I said “I love you” and he said “I love you, too”. It was the first time we’d said it out loud.

He looked utterly miserable as he headed through the gate and towards security and I followed him along for as long as possible, giving him my biggest smile and a wave as he turned the corner and out of sight.

As soon as he was through security we were texting each other again and we quickly agreed that 48 hours seemed almost cruel after the three weeks we’d had before. The long wait between visits was also very hard and it just seemed to be getting harder. He freely admitted that he was a bit of a mess and that this goodbye was hitting him harder than he expected. I felt the same way. I felt cheated and at the same time like I hadn’t fully appreciated every second of our time together.

48 hours is not a lot of time at all.

Knowing that I wouldn’t see Dan again until August, I decided to apply the method that had worked so well for the beginning of the month: cram as many social engagements as possible into the time between visits and hope the distraction works. And so it was that there were many more dinners, ballets, prom night, crafternoons, art exhibitions, a gin party with my feminist group, lunches and whatever time I couldn’t fill up with fun social things, I filled up with work.

In the meantime every day started with a “Good morning, sunshine” and ended with a “Night night, handsome” and with lots of messages in between. Knowing how difficult May had been without even a 48 hour visit, I couldn’t bear the thought of doing it all again in July. We would have to, though, because Dan’s vacation days were almost all booked up to the end of the year and my summer vacation didn’t start until the end of July. Even if we’d had the money, there simply wasn’t any time for another visit, short or otherwise.

Despite how difficult the time apart was and how hard the goodbyes were getting, we were settling into a steady and familiar rhythm. July was not going to be easy but we’d made it over the halfway mark of 2017, we’d been an official couple for nearly four months and we had some very solid plans for the summer. The little ding on my phone that is his personal notification alert still made me smile every time I heard it and I was still happier than I’d been in a long time. As challenging as the distance was, this relationship wasn’t going anywhere but up.

(… to be continued …) xJI

Also in this series:  January // February // March // April // May
* Adventures in Baby-Quitting

A Year of Dan & Jo: May

What’s a good story without conflict, am I right?

May started out well enough, we were both trying to manage knowing we wouldn’t be seeing each other for at least four weeks and looking at possibilities for June. All in all, we started out as positively as possible and were working on keeping our spirits up.

However, time + distance + text only communication (neither of us likes talking on the phone) = breeding ground for misunderstandings. Also, I have a touch of depression sprinkled with paranoia which always makes for a misunderstanding waiting to happen.

When you can’t hear someone’s voice say the words and you can’t see their face and they aren’t next to you to reassure you with a touch or a hug, everything you read gets filtered through your own voice, your own insecurities and your own, often incorrect, interpretation. If you’re already upset, chances are pretty good that everything you read will be in that “voice” and everything will read as antagonistic, unwilling to understand and distant.

Which is what happened to us in the second week of May. Dan made an off-hand comment that was 100% meant to be flirty and complimentary and I read it as something that didn’t fit into our conversation which made it suspect (hello, paranoia). When I re-read the conversation today I can’t even see my own frustration in the answers that I wrote which means that Dan most likely didn’t see it either when he read it at the time. I can clearly remember being upset and frustrated and unsure what to make of what he had written and I went to sleep hurt and sad even though none of that was visible in my answers or messages. We wished each other sweet dreams like we always do and outwardly there was no way of telling I was gutted. The next morning everything was jokey and fine again. I did tell him that his comment seemed really out of place and that it weirded me out and he was very understanding about that and said he’d try to pay attention to what kind of flirty comments he used when. However, in my head it was still a really unpleasant interaction, even though it probably didn’t even register as odd on his end.

This wasn’t an isolated experience and some of our other misunderstandings did actually result in very lengthy, very exhausting, conversations to try to hash out exactly what we meant and where the communication was breaking down. As awful as it is when you misunderstand each other, or you understand perfectly and you’re hurt by what they said, I do feel very lucky to be with a guy who honestly wants to figure out why I’m upset so he can either reassure me and at the same time make sure it never happens again. Not once has he made me feel like a “crazy” woman who needs mollifying or humouring. He really wants to know and he takes it seriously when I’m upset.

Even so, not seeing his face can sometimes be very hard when we’re talking about things that bother us (me, usually) and that’s when the distance feels the farthest because it would help me so much to hear him and see him when he says he gets it and it’s all fine. In my voice in my head, he still sounds doubtful, which makes it hard for me to let things go.

As a result of some of our miscommunications we (finally) came up with the idea of date nights on Skype. We had our first date night on May 12th and half of it was still him typing because he couldn’t get his microphone to work. The “conversation” is delightfully one-sided in our chat log but what’s really obvious was that we were having fun.

Dan punctuates with 😛 emoticons – hahaha

We had quite a few technical difficulties on both ends which meant there were a lot of freezing screens, lost sound and sometimes even no visual at all. It was a different kind of frustrating and when we “hung up” I missed him even more than I did before but at least I could see his face and it made us both smile a lot. The overall effect was a positive one, mostly because we could see each other and smile at each other again with actual faces instead of with smileys. There is something about his goofy yet dark and mysterious face that makes me grin my fool face off.

On a sadder note, just after I got back from visiting Dan in April, we found out that my Uncle Joe had died. Joe was my dad’s best friend and my Auntie Gay’s ex-husband. He wasn’t a blood relative but that made no difference. He’d known me my whole life and losing him was devastating. There was no question that my parents, my sister and I would be at his funeral in England later that month.

If you want to talk conflicting feelings and emotions, try this one on for size: going to your uncle’s funeral in England, where your boyfriend lives, only he’ll still be 300 miles away from you so you won’t be seeing him at all but you feel bad about feeling sad about that because you’re not going to England for fun, you’re going for a funeral [side note, why does the word funeral have the word fun in it?].

Also, how messed up is it to fly an hour to another country and still be exactly as far away from him as when you’re sat at home? On the bright side, we’d be in the same time zone for 48 hours (she said, with mild sarcasm).

As with most funerals, this one was a lovely send off and a giant reunion of friends and self-appointed family that had moved to all corners of the globe and many times it was noted that we should have done a big get-together while Joe was still alive to enjoy it. I feel that you know someone’s had a good life when people shed a tear or two during the service (damn you, Carlos Santana) and then they are smiling and happy at the wake, sharing stories and memories, glad to see each other and sad the deceased isn’t there to enjoy it. Joe had a helluva life with many travels and adventures. It was good to be there to celebrate it with his family. As always, Dan was there in my pocket ready to send me a funny text or to chat in a quiet moment. Even though it was a “so close, yet so far away” trip, his support reinforced just how amazing he is.

Towards the end of May I had a mini mental break down. Everything was doom and gloom and the sun would never shine again. I got really stuck in my own head and couldn’t find the silver lining at all. Instead of doing what most people are inclined to do when dealing with someone who is feeling down (“chin up, there are loads of people who have it worse” or “you’ve got nothing to be sad about!”), Dan did that magical thing that people like me need: he listened. He didn’t trivialise or try to diminish. He didn’t change the subject or get angry that I wasn’t just snapping out of it or that I wasn’t being fun. He listened and he let me rant or he just let me be quiet. He let me know he was there if I needed to talk and he didn’t pretend like there was nothing wrong. Within a day or two I was feeling a lot better and he was definitely a big part of that.

May was also the month that saw us talking about the L word. Right from the start we’d been very vocal about all the things we Like about each other and we would often name the characteristics that we were falling for but the Other L Word wasn’t really mentioned. We had a lovely talk about how that word has gotten such a loaded meaning from film and television shows and that we’d actually already been saying it in a hundred different ways without actually saying it. What was very clear was that we cared a whole lot and we were both very serious about living together here in The Netherlands in the (near) future. The When and How was still in the works but the If was no longer a question. It’s going to happen.

By the end of the month Dan had a flight booked to come see me for a long weekend in June. May, the longest month, was coming to a close and we’d made it without seeing each other.

Only two more weeks to get through and then we’d be together again. 

( … to be continued …) xJI

***

Also in this series:  January // February // March // April

 

A Year of Dan & Jo: April

April was a big month for us. We had our longest visit together to date, I had surgery, we traveled together and I celebrated my 40th birthday.

We had a bit of a nasty shock at the beginning of the month when his mom got into a car accident. Her car was hit by a runaway horse cart (the horse broke loose and the cart barrelled into her car). Thankfully she was fine but her car was a total loss which left them without one of the two cars they relied on. Normally not a problem but since Dan had left it a *teensy* bit late to renew his passport, it meant that he didn’t have his own car to drive up to the consulate to get it done. Which put a pretty massive strain on our timeline. He was flying out for my birthday on the 13th and, even getting a rush job on it, he was cutting it pretty close. He had to drive out to put in the rush application and drive back to get the actual passport but he could only do that on days that his mom didn’t need his car to get around for work. It was very frustrating watching time tick by and relying on everything going perfectly when it had to. In the end, he got his new passport, in hand, on April 10th.

I had been planning a huge birthday party for years because I wanted to celebrate my 40th in style. I wanted a theme and a venue and catering and a bar and I wanted as many people as could make it to be there. In the end the whole planning thing stressed me out so much that I ditched almost all of my big plans and just invited everyone who wanted to to join me at an Irish pub in the city centre. Some of my lovely friends even flew in from other countries to be there despite the fact that there wasn’t a big, organised happening, so it looked like all my worrying was for nothing.

Dan landed on the 13th while I was at work and he spent the day in the city and then walked to my place from there to meet me when I arrived home. It was the longest day ever at work because all I wanted to do was see Dan. Knowing he was so close and I had to wait was trying, to say the least. It was his first time back since New Year’s Eve and we had the place to ourselves. Driving into the parking lot and seeing him standing there made me happier than I can put into words.

After we walked the dogs (a task that would be all his after my surgery) we headed upstairs to have a “nice, quiet evening”. I’m not lying when I say we had every intention of watching TV (or a movie, I forget) but then we started kissing and before you knew it items of clothing were flying about and, as a result, my couch has stories that would make you blush. Then we got ready for bed and picked up where we left off. 😉

Waking up with Dan in my bed the next day was amazing. Even knowing I had to go to work, it was lovely to have him there and to know he would be there when I got home again. It was such a familiar and comfortable feeling. Thankfully I didn’t have a long day at work which meant I was home at a decent time and we had some time together before we were due to head out for our first social engagement together. We had dinner plans with other people. Some of my friends who had come in from other countries especially for my birthday party the next day were meeting us for dinner at one of my favourite little “best kept secrets in plain sight” restaurants and it was lovely. Dan did well being the only guy, too. Larissa, Claudia and Sara refrained from putting him in front of the Question Firing Squad (trademark pending) which meant we had a delicious meal and Dan would know more than a couple of people at my party the next evening.

I don’t remember what we did Saturday morning but I know it must have involved staying in bed for as long as possible, walking the dogs and taking it pretty easy before we were due to head out for all of the festivities. My parents, nieces and my Auntie Gay, who had travelled in from England, were taking the train to Amsterdam to have dinner with Dan and I before the party started so we met them at Central Station and walked to the Irish pub together. I was really pleased that my parents had already met Dan and liked him that past January which meant the pressure of “meeting the parents” was off. Now he was also meeting my nieces and one of my parents’ oldest friends and it really felt like he was one of the family. Auntie Gay has known me my whole life and she’s marked all by milestones with me. It was very important that she meet him.

Playing tourist while waiting for my family to arrive

Dinner was simple but fun and it was in the same pub that the party was going to be in so there was no rush to leave for another venue. The party itself was a blur. What I had hoped – my friends from different areas of my life getting together and having a good time together – happened, but I didn’t get to talk to nearly everyone on the night which was a shame. The time seemed to fly by and my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling. I had told everyone not to bother with gifts, as them being there would be gift enough, but the silly beggars went and brought me armfuls of truly thoughtful and lovely presents and I got well and truly spoiled.

Dan found himself a comfy corner with my family and my friends from the night before and found himself the subject of much curiosity. There seemed to be a musical chairs of other friends taking the seat next to him and wanting to get to know the “guy that got Jo to change her mind about relationships”. He was told in every conceivable way that everyone was hoping I would find someone special some day but they weren’t holding their breath anymore. “So, this is the Dan” was a frequent exclamation that night. He took it all in his stride and seemed happy to answer any questions levelled at him while also being content to watch me be a social butterfly.

By the time everything had wound down and the two of us piled into a taxi with all my birthday spoils I could happily say I’d had an amazing birthday.

The next day we had a super lazy day, ordered in food and binge watched Orphan Black, which I had already seen but we’d started from the beginning so that we could watch the last season “together” when it came out later in the year.  It was the best possible way to spend the day after so much activity the day (and night ;)) before. We did more or less the same thing the day after on Easter Monday which made for a lovely long weekend before my one day of work before my surgery.

I’ve written at length about my surgery here so I won’t do all of those details again but I do want to note that I was really glad to have Dan there with me and I was especially grateful that he was so patient with me when I was more than a bit horrible and grumpy and short with him leading up to my big day under the knife. I was very nervous (only stitches I’ve ever had were for removed wisdom teeth and I’d never been under general anaesthetic before) and I took it out on him. He was a star and stayed so patient with me. Most of the time he pretended like I wasn’t even being awful but I know I was and I really, truly appreciated him being there and taking all of it on the chin. More so the next day when he drove me to the hospital on the wrong side of the car and the road and stayed with me and my grumpy self until it was time for me to get ready (and wait). It was lovely to see him come back in the room after my surgery as well and I knew I had a keeper when he told my green-faced, half-drugged, droopy self that I looked gorgeous. He made the whole thing so much easier to get through.

He was even more amazing in the days following my surgery when I couldn’t do much but squeak in pain every time I moved. We had set up the fold out couch in the living room so that I could get in and out of bed easier (the frame of my bed had, er, broken mysteriously a few nights before and the whole end of the bed was sagging down) and I would be closer to the bathroom if we were sleeping in the living room. He got me drinks and snacks, he walked the dogs and he generally made sure I was comfortable in every possible way. We cuddled up and watched more Orphan Black and I crocheted a bit between naps. I slept a lot in the first two days and I could do that without a care in the world knowing he was nearby and taking care of my fur faces.

Dan and Alfie, a classic bromance

By the third day after my surgery I was ready to leave the house and we had a date night using a restaurant coupon I got from a lovely colleague for my birthday. We went to a cute little Italian restaurant in the city center and, even though I was still pretty sore, I made it into and out of town in one piece and we had a lovely time. It was nice to be out at a restaurant, playing at being grown ups in a relationship. It was even lovelier walking through the city with the setting sun making everything warmer and more magical.

The next few days were spent on short visits to my family and friends. On Sunday we went to my parents’ house for dinner and my whole family was there (my parents, sister, her kids and her boyfriend). My mom made an impromptu buffet and we had a lovely time with my whole family in the same place instead of in smaller groups at a time. Then on Monday, the first day of my holiday, we went to visit my friend Emma and her little boy Zeph and then we went to my friend and colleague Edwin to drop off my dogs for their visit with him while I went off to England for a week. Even including my very busy birthday, Dan still wasn’t even close to meeting all of my Amsterdam friends yet but we’d made a very good start. While we’d been spending most of our time meeting people and seeing my favourite places, all new things for him, it still felt like he’d always been here and it was the most natural way for us to be.

My favourite trip to England was the one we took the next day when we got to travel there together. The singular fun there is in packing together and looking forward to something together made that silly little one hour flight over the channel very special. We got to the airport really early because there had been warnings about long lines and wait times and we ended up tripping through security in under five minutes which meant we had a lot of time to kill on the other side. And then on top of that, our flight got delayed by about half an hour. The flight itself was uneventful and when we arrived his mother was waiting for us, ready to show off her new car. Having only seen her for a few hours on my previous trip I was unsure how the hello would go but I needn’t have worried. I got a massive hug and a hello and she was very glad to see me again. Once we were back at his place Dan went to get some things from the car and she gave me an even bigger hug than the one I got at the airport and she thanked me for “making her Danny so happy.” You couldn’t wipe the grin off my face with a baseball bat.

Waiting for our delayed flight at Schiphol

We spent a couple of lazy days in bed because my stitches were really bothering me and I was still pretty sore (and had massively overdone it in the last few days for someone who’d just had abdominal surgery). He brought me to Hobby Craft to get yarn and a hook and I started making a big cardigan. We watched movies and slept and it was heavenly. Dan made us fajitas and everything was cozy and domesticated.

Kitchen King

Then, on Thursday, his mother announced that I needed to be shown the sights and Dan had to take me out somewhere nice. We decided on visiting Durham cathedral and having a walk along the water. It was a slow walk, no worries. I had already bought loads of leggings and long shirts because the jeans I had brought with me were rubbing against my stitches something awful. The cathedral was lovely and Durham itself is adorable. We had a lovely lunch after our walk along the water and then came back home to get changed for dinner as his mom was taking us out for a meal. She was adamant that I be shown a good time. Dinner was lovely (another Italian restaurant) and we had a walk along the marina where I got to see the statue of a monkey that got hanged for being a French spy (a story that may or may not have actually happened).

On our walk along the water in Durham.

The next day I was feeling pretty fit so we went to Whitby to visit the abbey and that was amazing! I’d been to Whitby before but hadn’t managed to get to the abbey that time. This time we did and there was even a birds of prey show on. We had a lovely fish and chips lunch at Trenchers and got ice cream and walked along the pier. I counted so many lovely dogs (it’s a thing I do; when I’m away from my dogs I tend to count all of the ones I see each day I’m gone) and even though it was a bit windy and cold we still had a marvellous day.

Whitby Abbey

Then came my last day in England and we spent an hour or two at a car boot sale before heading home to cuddle again. We were going to go catch a movie but decided we wanted to hole up together instead. The reality of my trip home the next day was hitting us and knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him again until June (if we even managed that) was weighing heavily on me. We didn’t talk much, just lay in each others arms on the bed and I cried a little. After spending three weeks together I normally would have been very happy to have some time to myself again but now I couldn’t fathom him not being there when I got home. Not having a countdown to the next visit was going to make it even harder to cope. I needed something to look forward to.

The next day at the airport was miserable. I cried shamelessly and got the shoulder of his hoodie all wet. Standing there, wrapped in his arms with my head on his shoulder I couldn’t seem to make my body turn away from him and walk away. Of course I had to and I miserably made my way to security. Everyone there pretended like they couldn’t tell I’d been crying (how very British of them) and then I cried some more when I was through to the lounge and waiting for my flight. I must have looked a right state but I didn’t care.

The flight home was uneventful and after picking up the dogs at Edwin’s I drove straight through to my parents’ place to spend the night at theirs. I tried very hard to focus on all of the lovely things we’d done in the last three weeks but it was just glaringly obvious that he wasn’t with me anymore and that I really wanted him to be. He fits perfectly and now there’s a big Dan-shaped hole when he’s not there.

Knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him at all in May was a very bitter pill to swallow.  

(… to be continued …) JIx

***

Also in this series: February and March (link to January in the text)