This weekend was our first Friday night at home together since December 5th. Our first Friday night at home together for eight weeks, that’s nearly two months!
And I don’t mean our first Friday night at home because we’ve both had plans, or been out for dinner together, or had after-work drinks, or because our lives are just so wildly exciting and sociable. No, I mean it’s the first time we have both been in the same city on a Friday night for eight whole weeks!
I am shocked, not just because it’s been such a long time, but also because I didn’t notice. I’m not trying to seem cool and aloof, believe me (I am so not hipster enough to pull that off). I could talk about how hard it’s been and how much I’ve missed him and how lonely it’s been, but quite frankly, that just wouldn’t be true.
In all honesty I didn’t even realise until I was driving home from work that afternoon. I had that niggling feeling like I was forgetting something, was I supposed to be going somewhere after work? Had I forgotten my keys?… Nope, just momentarily forgotten I had a boyfriend at home!
Mr Miner had been at work and I had been away for Christmas, then he had been back at work again and there had been weekends away in between, then all of a sudden you realise just how little you’ve seen each other, it just creeps up without you even realising.
Obviously I would like to spend all (ok, let’s not push it, maybe 70 per cent of) our Friday night’s together in an ideal world, but the fact is that the longer you live this lifestyle, the easier time apart becomes.
I think in some ways we have been lucky that we have never known anything different. Since we met Mr Miner has worked away and so we have never been able to get into a routine of being together 24/7, relying on that security.
Have you ever watched that show ‘Don’t Tell the Bride’? Well, they have to spend three weeks apart while they plan the wedding and there are always tears. They cry about how much they miss each other and then when they’re reunited they always say ‘Let’s never, ever spend that long apart again’, and I can’t help but roll my eyes and think, seriously?
Am I a totally cynical bitch? I love Mr Miner, we have built a solid life together over the last five years, but I can’t imagine being so upset about being apart for three weeks. Three weeks apart is often standard practice for us.
And then I think back to when we first lived together and he left me in our new house to go to work and I was suddenly very alone. That feeling of anxiety set in, like a dead weight in my stomach and I cried when we said goodbye, gutted that I wasn’t going to see him… for four days!
And suddenly I realise how easy it is to take what we have now for granted.
If you are just starting out in this way of life, then I will be honest and admit that yes, it can be difficult to start off with. The hardest thing is learning to be by yourself.
It’s so important early on to plan your time apart and choose things that you want to do. I love watching a girly movie, having drinks with my friends, cooking the food I like and not having to share the remote or the bed (or the bathroom for that matter). And now I look forward to my ‘me’ time. I long for my guilt-free nights where I don’t have to think of anyone but myself and I don’t tend to get lonely or upset, in fact I have a pretty great time!
As for this weekend, as well as making me realise that I have got pretty good at doing this FIFO thing, I have also realised that I shouldn’t take finding it easy for granted. As much as I’m ok with being apart, there are some nights (especially after eight weeks) when you just can’t beat being together.